


What's Left but Will?

by TwoBy2Koda



Category: One Piece
Genre: Cannibalism, Cat Naps, Cuddles, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Found Family, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Minks (One Piece), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Probably rewriting all of chapter 1 and 2 later bc POV is a mess, Self-Insert, Slavery, Some Artist's Liberty Taken, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Torture, one of these things is not like the other, so it has some plot issues, too many oc's - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBy2Koda/pseuds/TwoBy2Koda
Summary: (* I wrote this for myself b/c I'm a sucker for fluffy friendships and self inserts don't judge me too harshly)I wish I bought a lottery ticket the day I got struck by lightning. Not that I'd be alive to enjoy it, but maybe I'd win something for once in my life.Then again, maybe this was my prize?Getting reborn into One-Piece was the real 'shock.'But who ever said that you get to be reborn into a nice happy family or with any of the main cast?Fuck that. I was born a slave to one 'Saint Roswald'.I was one PISSED child of D. and I was going to make them pay. But first I had a certain rubber-brained captain to catch.
Comments: 28
Kudos: 113





	1. In which 'I' die and become a catgirl

A/N that nobody reads. Many of the ideas in this fanfic were inspired by other existing works that either got dropped or I'm too impatient to wait for updates so, you may see some familiar stuff like a focus on Haki similar to that of Riskua from Tell it to the Marines (I think?) linked to the “chakra taste” of a Naruto fanfiction I’ve lost the name to, but with a bit more integration. I'm hoping to make this a plausible series but I'm an amateur writer with no beta and this is likely going to SUCK since I have like zero knowledge of the real-life scenarios that other authors actually make the effort to do research on. Also, I lose interest easily so if this stops after like 3 chapters don't say I didn't warn you.  
I don’t own one piece but if I did ace and pound would be alive bless that man.  
That said, let's begin  
........................................................................................................................................................................   
“Ah! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as always, Divine Saint Rosward. Could I interest you in some tea, perhaps?”

“How noisy. I did not come here to waste my time, boy. Get to the point before I find using you for target practice a more worthwhile venture.” The bearded world noble scowled at the nervously-sweating owner of the Sabaody Auction House.

“Of course, your illustriousness. If I may~” Disco bowed deeply. “Some of the merchandise has been a bit…rowdy as of late. We were wondering if you would generously spare some stronger personnel in order to keep them all in line, for fair compensation of course. Would any one of these be…acceptable?” He appealed as he delicately pushed a document filled with names toward the other side of the table. The world noble raised an eyebrow, stroking the end of his perfectly manicured moustache in contemplation. Shortly upon seeing one of the descriptions, Saint Rosward froze and a dark grin spread across his face. Disco’s own smile grew when Rosward pointed to the picture of a very pregnant woman.

“Hmph. Very well. You’ll have your men, if I can have that one.”

“Excellent choice, sir noble. I’ll prepare it for transport right away.” Disco bowed again, and turned to exit the room with a vicious smile.  
........................................................................................................................................................................  
Supposedly, I was “two months” old when I cried for the first time.

I had woken up restricted and shivering at the low temperature. I didn’t think it unusual since I did tend to sleep with the fan on and a metric ton of blankets regardless of weather conditions. Unfortunately, it was impossible to move my arms, but I was too groggy to try and identify the offender that was keeping me confined to my bed. I huffed and attempted to squirm my way out with more effort than I was willing to spare so early in the morning, but it was no use. I found myself getting tired rapidly and fell back to sleep when I no longer had the energy to fight the covers, no closer to unbinding myself than I had started.

The next time I woke, I barely recalled my restriction in my dazed state, but eventually and determinedly tried to force my hands upward, succeeding in a little give. Deciding it was finally time to figure out why I was so thoroughly trapped, I'd opened my eyes to a blurry wash of grey that immediately gave me a headache. I tried blinking to clear my sight, but no matter how much I tried to focus, the room remained stubbornly fuzzy. I grumbled about in my head something that equated to ‘stupid morning blanket bullshit responsibilities’. I didn’t want to move from my comfortable cocoon, but I had to get to work and I was probably late since my alarm didn't go off. I groaned in annoyance.

…wait, what?

My brain went off line for a second after hearing the sound I’d made. It was pinched, high pitched, and familiar, like I had just sucked in a whole helium balloon. My attempt to roll over produced similar squeaks of effort. Eventually I gave up the task of freeing myself in favor of testing out the noise I heard since I was so amused by it. I might as well see if my roommate was home and able to free me instead, even if he would endlessly make fun of me for this voice. I rolled my eyes, inhaled, and yelled.

"nnnnnga! aaaa~....kuuuh?”

What the HELL!?

“Hwaaaaa! Angaaaa!”

And now I was in full blown panic.

You can't MISTAKE the sound of baby talk, and as far as I know, full grown humans really can’t imitate the noise of an infant that well, let alone ME. More telling was the fact that the babble was actually intended to be coherent speech. 

Panic and anger were bubbling in my chest, my breathing becoming short and unmeasured as I became hyper-aware of my surroundings, which were not familiar at all. My room was blue, not dark grey, and the fan couldn’t be seen. I struggled to lift my head to look around but I just didn’t have the neck strength. My shock- induced gibberish gradually turned in to full blown wailing when I could no longer deny the situation. I was, most definitely, an infant and that sound wasn't just morning vocal issues. No matter how hard I tried, my tongue just wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn't move, could only turn my head to see bars at my sides that were clearly the wooden bars of a crib, and the only sound I could hear was that of my sobbing echoing around an empty room which only drove me further into my downward spiral.

How did I get here? Where is here? Was I kidnapped? I remember.... alarms and I was still but moving at the same time.... going to the ER for......something.... Was I in the hospital? No, no heart monitor or needles in me and no nurse responding. Did.... did I die? Had I really been reincarnated in a baby? But I knew I was an adult! Why did I remember anything? Why did I die? Why me?

Among the million questions swirling in my head, I began recounting my day frantically. I had already woken up. I went to work after coffee as usual, stayed late to finish a few tickets, and then left? I think…it was raining…it never rained in LA.

As though a flip had been switched, it was like a screen was shoved in my face and I watched as a memory replayed itself vividly. It was loud, the roars of thunder only seconds apart. I didn’t have an umbrella and was making a dash toward my car at the back end of the parking lot since the parking lot was empty so late in the evening. Not even three steps out of the door I was drenched and being pushed by the wind, barely able to hold on to my laptop and shield it from the water. I had made it about halfway through the parking lot when I got a case of the worst goosebumps I’d ever had in my life. I smelled something vaguely like ozone, and the next thing I knew….

WHITE. I couldn’t think. Searing pain coursed through every nerve in my body like my blood had been replaced by needles. I could actually feel it through the memory and It sent me thrashing about in an agony that my screams could barely keep up with. It was totally silent save for an almost inaudible ringing in my ears. Everything stopped except for the pain. I could even feel my insides, how my spine burned, and see the halo of light encompass me. It went numb first, then black, then it shattered. Then it was white again, and I could see my body being wheeled onto an ambulance… except that I wasn’t in my body.

Lightning…

I’d been killed by lightning of all things. So I was reincarnated and now I was a tiny, helpless infant.

My tears became less terror and more mourning when I'd realized the gravity of everything I'd lost. I started trying to remember everything beyond my death, but was met with a blank fog when I tried to remember my name, family, or anything I deemed important. I just knew things based on the questions I asked myself. Did I have family? Yes. Were we close? No. Husband? No. Child? No. My career? Dead end. So, I was alone, which was a relief, but even my name? Gone. 

Everything else was part of an existence that didn't belong in this body. In a way, it was comforting to know that I didn't have attachments, and that I could start over and have a better life, but just the thought that I had been ripped away from everything I knew still made me angry in a way I couldn't just subdue with logic. So, I cried. Seems like that's this body's response to everything upsetting, not that I should have been surprised since I was a baby anyway. I cried because I was angry that once more, I would have to go through the hardship of growing up, that I was totally helpless and entirely at the mercy of whoever’s child I had become. I had no control over any part of my body and couldn’t tell anyone what had happened to me or what I needed. I would be totally abnormal. 

Yeah, I was going to sing my lungs out for as long as I wanted. I deserved that at least.

I could hear the door open and close and hastened footsteps coming my way but I didn’t care. Whoever it was, they tried frantically to shush me. I ignored them and continued taking my anger out at whatever deity or absurd stroke of luck deemed it ok to rip me from my life and stick me somewhere else like I was some plaything.

“Stop crying honey, please. You have to be quiet. Shhh-sh-sh-sh. Please, I can’t have them take you from me, they’ll kill you!” 

Kill?

I finally registered the words that the woman who entered was saying, breaking through to me over my racket. Once again, I was stunned silent by fear and curiosity when I heard her say ‘kill’. What, for something no normal baby would be able to control anyway? It hadn’t even occurred to me yet that I’d possibly be reborn where something like killing it would actually be a concern, and she had made it sound almost…commonplace. Out of a sudden desperation I did my best to smother my tears into a quieter moaning, but it was too late. The door slammed open.

“Impudent scum! Keep that monster quiet or I’ll personally make sure it is silenced. Permanently!” A man’s voice rang in my ears, the horribly loud and snobbish noise wracking through my head with stabbing pain that was amplified by the headache I’d gotten in my tantrum. I couldn’t stop a whine. I swear I could hear him turn toward me so fast his neck snapped.

“It still wants to defy me? I’ll teach it to obey to a Celestial Dragon as it should like the peasant it is.” The man raised something and stalked toward my crib. I cried out and tried to recoil in terror.

“Sir no! She is a child; I’ll keep her quiet so don’t hurt her!” The woman from earlier pleaded. 

“I don’t care, she interrupted all of our slumbers! Would you will take her place and be punished instead!?”

“Yes! Anything, just don’t hurt my daughter please! She is just a baby and couldn’t possibly understand your status!”

My attention snapped to her. Daughter? This was my ‘mother’? She was being punished in my place, but neither of us did anything wrong! My last life and my infantile state were suddenly the least of my concerns. This woman, my new mom, was going to be tortured or worse because of my crying of all things?

No….NO! He couldn’t do that to her! She didn’t so anything wrong! What kind of person is so sick and twisted that they would attack a baby just to quiet it? My eyes stung, my was sight still sub-par and I could barely breathe but I still watched intently as the woman stumbled over to place herself between me and the man, spreading her arms out in an effort to protect me.

“…Very well then.”

She turned around. With her face close enough to mine at last, I was momentarily awed at her features. I took in every detail of the woman that had thoughtlessly jumped in to save me from punishment, no matter how strange it was. Every exposed part of her was covered in a dusting of short and silky grey. Dark eyes surrounded by a black band of fur were set beyond the sharp protrusion of her snout, topped off with a cute little black nose and framed by frizzy black hair that had short ears poking out toward the top, but they swiveled back in anticipation of the pain she knew she was about to experience. She leaned down and the corners of her muzzle curled upward. We locked eyes.

“My little kit…. I love you. I am only glad…you won’t remember this.” If only she knew…Her voice was soft but broken by tears. The insane man had run out of patience.

The first cry from ‘mother’ rang out when the man brought his hand around to slap her and she was sent reeling to the floor. He hit her again and again with some sort of weapon until I felt something warm splash against the side of my face and cool. Blood, I knew. I could smell the metallic scent permeate the air alongside the sickening odor of rotten eggs and hair gel that the man emitted. I was terrified into silence as I could only barely see the atrocity being committed against the woman. She fell to the floor howling after every strike that left a new red river across her body. For what felt like hours, the man only laughed as though he were having the time of his life while he subjected her to his torture. 

He ran the weapon into the upper part of her neck, silencing her. She choked and gargled at the blood that flooded her throat, wheezing a silent scream this time. It would be the last sound she would ever make whether she survived or not. The man stood above her, panting harshly at the effort he spent with how out-of-shape he was. He spat on her.

“Tch, seems like you filthy mortals have learned your places for now. I have to wash this dirty animal’s blood off me now before the stains set in. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll allow you to live today. I won’t be as forgiving the next time around.” With one final strike, he left her curled up form trembling in the middle of the room.

Two hundred and eighty-four lashes. She had taken two hundred and eighty strikes for me. As I watched her form writhe in perpetual torment, nothing else mattered. I was sad, awed, terrified, and confused, and above all, so very angry. So infuriated that I could see red and black creeping in to give me tunnel vision, my blood searing through my veins and my hearing deafened as the phantom sound of her last words rang through my head in a loop.

_“My little kit…I love you.”_

My chest squeezed in pain. I vowed to never cry so that she wouldn’t have to ever go through that torment ever again on my behalf, and if the opportunity ever presented itself, to make that man feel every inch of the pain he had incurred on her tenfold. This mother in the hell of a new life I’d just awakened to had earned every bit of my loyalty and respect instantly. For her, I would do whatever it took to repay her.

........................................................................................................................................................................ 

_*PrrrrrRRrrrrRRrrrr*_

I was curled up in my mother’s arms, content that she was finally back from wherever she was hauled off during the day that made her so tired. We were curled up against the wall of the small dungeon room.

Mom could no longer speak to me. A doctor had been sent in not long after the man had stormed out. He hurriedly patched up her throat and made it so that she wouldn’t bleed to death but there was nothing he could do to fully restore her shredded vocal cords. The thought made me cringe. I hadn’t uttered a word even a year later when I finally became capable of doing most things myself. It was a bit relieving that she never coaxed me in to speaking either. I didn’t trust my own tongue to not make a fool out of me, as silly as the concept seemed. Even so, I made sure that she knew I loved and respected her immensely.

Mom could no longer speak to me. But she could purr to me.

The first time she had done so, I had jerked a bit in surprise. I caught myself before I could cry and stifled my whimpers when she stopped and tensed in response to my momentary distress. It was incredibly similar to that of a cat albeit rougher and slightly off in some way. Still, her being tense made me uncomfortable, and in an effort to calm her, I started purring back without thinking. It was a mind-boggling concept to wrap my head around, me purring, but it did the trick and she started up again. Once I got past the initial shock of the behavior, it was probably the most comforting thing I’d ever experienced. Now, it was partly our form of communication. I would clumsily grab her hand and put it to my chest to communicate sub vocally, and she would do the same. In a way, purring became like singing a lullaby.

When I could actually see clearly, it made a lot more sense. My mom was a raccoon person, I think.

No, really. She looked almost like she was a khajit straight out of Skyrim but with round ears and that iconic ringed tail. It explained a lot actually.

There’s no way I was even in my old world. Unless raccoon-people became common or something on earth, and I had taken way too many a biology class to support human evolution into animals with the laws of anatomy. That fur was real though (I did tug on it once to confirm, embarrassingly enough. Mom just smiled at me indulgently and let me pet her) So my conclusion was fairly anticlimactic. If anything, it explained literally everything. This place was really weird and it could all just be chalked up to the fact that it had to be a different world entirely. Anything could happen and the laws of science wouldn’t be guaranteed to work the same way. It didn’t mean I couldn’t marvel at it all though. Not that I got out much. Even so,

 _‘how the hell do they breathe with bubbles on their heads? Wouldn’t they run out of air or something?’_ Were my thoughts the first time I could see a dragon. Intelligent, I know.

Well, it meant that I was an animal too. Or at least part animal. Actually, I was a cat instead? Once more, I sensed weird world wackiness was at play. I didn’t have the full fur covering and protruding facial features that mom had, oddly enough, but I retained the ears, tail, and senses that came with being a cat-person. Maybe I was half human? Heck for all I knew I was part turtle too. My coloring was a bit more on the strawberry-blond side but I still had her onyx eyes at least. I was most excited about my hair being super fluffy fur with an inner coat, and it felt sinfully good when mom would run her claws through it while she was grooming me…….

……the licking me clean part was a bit excessive though……I mean I’d always thought raccoons were catlike but this was going a bit far…….That, along with breast-feeding and diaper changing, were experiences I would lock far in the depths of my mind and take to my grave.

It explained why I could hear, smell, taste, and see in the dark better than I had ever done in my last life. It would often give me headaches when mom came back smelling too strongly of so many people, blood, or noble’s perfume that drowned out her natural spicy and mineral-like scent. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what she did and why we were treated like animals.

That ‘Celestial Dragon’ guy…we were his slaves. When she wasn’t maintaining the mansion above us and staying out of sight-out of mind, he would put her to work in other ways. Those days she came back to the room later and reeked even stronger of perfume. I didn’t mind. Better a blinding headache from the smell than to think of what actually goes on in that pompous asshole’s chambers…

So far, I was still young enough to not get put to work. Being born into slavery as opposed to roped into it, I was allowed time to grow and learn the bare minimum of things. I hid my fast development so that they would think I was still a normal sub-par child. I think mom knew that I was a smart kid and was relieved that I could hide it so well that I’d still be allowed a few more years of development. Earlier than I ever remember children reading in my old world, she was already ‘teaching’ me to write.

Mom was an excellent artist.

Her handwriting was so pretty compared to my baby chicken-scratch. Even with the foreknowledge of the language (bless the fact that it was English and not some other tongue), I needed the practice to build up motor control. When she would teach me words, she would draw pictures of the words in order for me to ‘make the connection’. I was an artist in my last life though it’d been more of a hobby than any part of my job. Besides, I didn’t get to do much with the long hours I spent planted in front of the computer. With all the free time I had between her leaving for her duties and coming back, Drawing and writing was usually my only form of entertainment.

I spent days writing the stories I’d known from my last life. Everything from the Cinderella stories of my childhood to my later obsession with Sherlock and every anime I could get my hands on. I don’t know where all the paper came from, but I had written out the entire series of harry potter from what I could remember too at some point. All the books were squirreled away underneath the bed, and mom would often read them while she purred me to sleep, giving me chuffs of praise and the occasional gasp when she ran into a turning point in the story, making a show of burying her face in the pages. My tail would twitch with glee in an unspoken thanks.

One day after almost two years of composing these books, I started on the story of a certain straw-hat captain when I froze halfway through the page I was writing.

It was so long ago but……Celestial Dragon, I still remembered what that man called himself. I always knew it sounded so familiar. I hadn’t seen him at all in the past years, presumably due to my mother’s influence, but wasn’t that the other term the world nobles went by later on in the story? My eyes widened. With a slightly heightened pulse, I went about writing down everything I remembered from the grand tale of One Piece, which turned out to be quite a lot despite having last read it in my middle school days. Then again it had been my obsession for a good couple of years which could explain why I knew so much. It took me almost a week to complete just a small part of the story, and I was actually neglecting mom’s attention to focus a bit. She seemed a bit confused until on the last day, I hid the papers except for one that I had a very carefully drawn picture that was intended to make my mom question me about my knowledge. Something I couldn’t possibly have ever known since I’d never seen it or been taught about it here before, it was too risky with the dragons about. I could only hope she would trust me after this.

Huh. So maybe I was actually a mink?

It was actually quite simple. It was simply a representation of a man with a cloak shrouding his eyes, and a tattoo on his face. The most wanted man and leader of the revolutionaries himself: Monkey D. Dragon.

Mom froze when I handed the sheet to her, I studied her face, twisting in concern and horror while she stared at my drawing before looking up to meet my serious eyes. She turned the paper over and wrote only one word.

_*how?*_

I was tense as I thought of what to write in response. After going through a million scenarios, I just decided to keep it simple and truthful. I handed her one of the massive stacks of papers I had written up.

_*It was a story I read in my last life. *_

She widened her eyes and her face twisted in puzzlement. She stayed like that for a few minutes, glancing through the pages and back at me, and I got increasingly more nervous. Hastily I wrote out another note.

_*I don’t remember much other than stories. I’m still your daughter ok? Nothing has changed, right? *_

She gasped and embraced me quickly, tightly curling her tail around mine and burying my face into her fur. She didn’t have to write the next message for me to understand.

_*Of course you are, kit. You will always be. *_

My worries were alleviated by the sheer amount of love I felt for this lady; I then went on to ask a question I was actually shocked I’d never thought to ask before.

_*Hey mom? What’s your name? *_

She shook in her version of a chuckle, and penned in exquisite calligraphy:

_*~Alice Von Noelle~*_

My eyes sparkled a bit, my tail twitching with curiosity and my ears flicked forward to attention. I felt every bit the child I was when hundreds of questions came to mind. Another shiver from mom alerted me to her amusement at my awe. I hesitated a bit before writing the next questions I had prioritized.

_*It sounds so fancy! Were you like, royalty or something? *_

She was breathlessly giggling at first, but a forlorn look marred her features for a second before glancing at me with a keen eye before taking the pen once more.

_*Actually, in a manner of speaking I was. I’m kind of surprised you picked up on it so quickly, but that time has long since passed. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day. For now, let’s see…have you ever wondered about your father? I guess you do deserve to know a bit about him. *_

The scent of something salty caused me a bit of distress, knowing it was due to her sadness. Her change of subject renewed the burning curiosity I had though and after mulling it over, I locked eyes with her and nodded a bit sheepishly. She continued, breathing deeply.

_*You look just like him you know. You have him to thank for your lack of fur, being human…His name was Ark D. Maul. The “Archdemon” of the sea. The love of my life taken from me by the call of the ocean and piracy. You are his only child and bearer of the curse of D. kit. It was his will to name you Mercury. *_

And the shoe dropped as far as my jaw did. Hooo-lyyy Shitballs…...I was a D. I was starting to kind of hate this whole “weirdest string of impossible and condemning coincidences in the world it could only be divine intervention” thing I had going on. On the bright side, at least I had an awesome name? At the very least I was totally going to live up to the eccentric weirdo description. Beyond my floored expression I could still see mom in pain thinking about him. It was clear that there was more ‘taken’ by the ocean than just his person. Seeing mom on the verge of tears made me whine a bit and curl into her fur, nuzzling her neck. She smelled like rain.

_*You miss him. I wish I could have met him. What was he like? *_

She smirked knowingly, and regaled me with the hilarious tales of his exploits for the rest of the afternoon.

........................................................................................................................................................................ 

There was a thunderstorm.

The first I’d been through since my rebirth. It had rained before, and I was ok with it since rain was safe. Mom smelled like rain; how could I not feel calm around it?

But the thunder and lightning were another story.

A small window in our cell displayed the battle going on outside. Bright flashes and crackling far louder than I remember as a human caused me to hyperventilate while my back was pressed to our cell bars. My hands painfully held down my ears in an attempt to muffle the noise, and my eyes were shut tight. It did little to help since I could still FEEL the static in the humid air. I think I finally understood why dogs and cats were so nervous during storms now. This was damn terrifying.

It didn’t help that I had DIED being struck by LIGHTNING.

Mom came in to find my whimpering state and quickly fell to cover me with her form, scooping me up and burying me into her furry chest. She winced as I pulled on her fur and she purred in an attempt to calm me, rocking me rhythmically. Through the panic, the rocking, and the purring, I finally lost enough coherency to pass out.

I came to and it had passed, though I was still jumpy from the experience. Since mom already knew about my past Life, I decided to let her in on the whole story as well.

I recounted my death to her, and she looked at me with pity and sadness as I had expected. She told me that it was perfectly understandable, but to try and hide it since it was a weakness that could be used against me.

I fully agreed. I was going to do my best to tolerate it, though I knew I could never be rid of the phobia. I planned to sail with the king of pirates after all, and I would have to be calm enough around Nami and the fucked weather of the grand line islands in order to not be dead weight. I refused to hold them back. There was too much on the line if I couldn’t be stronger than my fear.

Huh…now there’s a thought. What if I could be stronger than lightning? Minks had that whole sulong thing, right?

What if I could be _faster_ than lightning?  
........................................................................................................................................................................ 

At four, I was deemed old enough to begin the life of a slave of the Tenryuubito.

Mom was shivering the day the man, who I now recognized as Saint Roswald, came in to our cell with a sickening grin on his face. I fared no better. We were clinging to each other with steel grips. He spread his arms out wide.

“Ah, rejoice little one. Today is the day you are stripped of your freedom at last~” Roswald chuckled darkly and waved for one of his bodyguards to come forward. One went over and restrained mom, who had been wrestled off my person, while I hopelessly fought the strength of the other that had pushed me down to the cold stone floor.

_*Click*_

A measured collar was clicked around my neck, the heavy weight rubbing against my skin. I didn’t claw at it, knowing what would happen if I attempted to tamper with the device. A chain was linked to it and wrapped around my wrists before I was yanked up.

“Good. Now then, it’s time to prepare you for my precious daughter’s birthday!” Roswald cheerfully pranced out of the room, the bodyguard heaving me in tow. I did my best to yank back and look at mom. She was doing the same with obvious despair. I figured now was as good a time as any. In a low voice, inaudible to those without the advanced hearing of a mink, I spoke for the first time.

_“One day, I’ll get you out of here, I promise. I love you too mom.”_

It was my response to her final words so many years ago, and she knew it. She closed her eyes and thrashed, calling out with wheezes and silent screams. I smiled and looked back for as long as I could until the door was clicked shut behind me. I hoped it wouldn’t be the last time I ever saw her.

I was led into a bathroom somewhere at the back of the mansion. Two other servants unchained me and set about stripping me down. I tried my best to steal my clothes back from their grasp but I just didn’t have the strength, being only a child, so I was left humiliated and nude in the middle of the room. They brought out rough sponges and started forcefully scrubbing down every inch of me until my pale skin had turned incredibly raw. It stung, but they didn’t let up.

They seemed a bit miffed at my hair for a second, feeling it up a bit with a small degree of awe, before opting to just scrub it down with a heavily perfumed shampoo that made my eyes sting and water with its potency. They didn’t even bother to try avoiding my ears or tail, both of which ached with their treatment. Admittedly, it was probably the cleanest I had ever been. I chose to focus on the perks rather than acknowledge that I was going to become a pet for Shalria of all people.

Still naked, I was led to a table where my arms, legs, and waist were strapped down. The servants left the room to be replaced by a man wearing all white that brought in a tray of tools. My heart raced at the implications.

He began by cleansing the irritated skin on my shoulder blade with a sharp smelling disinfectant, then a stabbing pain began hammering in the same spot rhythmically.

I refused to react. Even as the needle entered and left my skin haphazardly, tearing my nerves as the needle was imbedded with obvious inexperience, I remained still and silent, holding my breath as though to contain the shrieks that welled up in my throat. After an hour, that damned symbol of the celestial dragon slaves was forever marked on my upper right back, still stinging from the phantom pains of the needles and plastered with tissues to clot some of the bleeding.

The servants from before came back and dressed me in simple doll-like clothes. A puff-sleeved white top and dusty pink skirt were slipped on me in complement to my pale hair, which was tugged back into low pigtails that made my head ache. White stockings and jane-shoes adorned my feet, making it difficult to walk since I’d spent the last four years without footwear. For the finishing touch, a cat bell was clipped to my collar. It was all itchy and uncomfortable and incredibly demeaning. The chains were placed back on my wrists and I was released from the table bindings to be led into yet another room.

They locked me in a cage. A fucking pet cage with two dog food bowls in the corner and barely enough room to turn a full circle let alone stand. I growled under my breath and did not succeed in getting a better position before at last the royal idiot himself walked in, trailed by his ass of a son and daughter. I gagged and dry heaved at the return of the rotten egg smell accompanied by peanut butter and sour lemon.

“Ohohohoho! Wow daddy, you got me a pet? It’s so adorable! Like a little doll~” Shalria fawned over my containment. I bit back a growl at her words. My tail flicked wildly in anger, drawing her attention. Faster than I could realize, she had clamped her hand around it and tugged, making me kick out when I could feel my spine pull apart.

“A slave of your very own! And a mink too, with how rare they are to catch, it’s only the finest for you princess.”

“Ufufufu, It’s a kitty! Meow kitty!” Charlos had pulled out his excessively bejeweled gun and poked it between the bars of the cage to nudge my side. I made no response, though the presence of the gun froze my limbs and my pupils dilated in fear. I stopped trying to resist Shalria’s treatment of my tail.

“Huh? Daddy it won’t meow even though I told it to!” Charlos pouted, stabbing into me harder in an attempt to get a reaction. I could feel Roswald give me a dangerous glare through those sunglasses of his. My throat went dry when I realized that I would likely be regretting my little rebellion shortly.

“In time. The kitten is still rebelling since it doesn’t like its cage, but it will learn soon enough. Shalria darling, go ahead and grab some of your favorite toys. It’s time you learned how to properly house-train a pet.”  
........................................................................................................................................................................ 

Day and night, I remained in the cage, my back throbbing from sleeping on the cold metal while so cramped. I was only taken out while heavily sedated into submission when Shalria would ‘play dress up’ with me, or when I was given my twice-daily bathroom breaks.

The pet food bowls were filled once a day with raw fish and gruel, and once every three with water. At first, I refused them both in defiance, but after a week without sustenance I was desperate, hallucinating, and could care less with the pain in my head and stomach. The fish was slightly rotten by the time I finally ate it, and even then, it was off somehow, but I could care less. Even if it upset my stomach, at least it had something in it. Every single day it was the same thing.

Days blended in to each other. The routine was mind numbing, but became bearable after months. I still remained stubbornly quiet but would appease any questions from Shalria with a nod, if only to keep her happy. I figured it could be far worse. My former knowledge of WWII from my past life was indication enough. In my current position maybe, I could gain some favor and be allowed an opening if they let their guard down. I was reassured by the fact that one day, when I was strong enough, I knew how to take the collars off and I could escape. For now, I would endure the treatment. The names and occasional beatings for small transgressions hurt, but nowhere near as much as when I had died.

At least that was the plan until Shalria walked in on me eating one day.

“Tch, you really are a lowlife monster aren’t you Puss. No more than a beast with the way you eat that filth.” Her comment made me bristle. Puss or Pussy had been her way of degrading me for some time now and though I could tolerate it, I was still disgusted by the slur. But registering part of her comment made me pause. I hadn’t had gruel that day, only fish. I was sure that they had fish too, probably of much finer quality. I looked up to her and glared. She only smirked.

“So, you do understand me. I wonder how that trash bitch taught you considering that she can’t talk. Well, then I wonder if she ever told you about those awful beasts.”

I merely ignored her and rolled my eyes. I had already figured out that she was just trying to scare me with the idea of sea kings. She continued in a higher voice, as though contemplating something of little interest.

“They are kind of like you, you know. They are called ‘fishman’ but really, they are just another race of mortal scum. Oh well. There’s certainly enough of them to go about feeding you.”

_What?_

_Fishman?_

_I was eating a person? ___

__My ears rang and bile rocketed up my throat, what little I had eaten so far ejected itself out of my stomach instantly. I crawled over to the bars of my cage and spewed undigested meat onto the floor outside. Staring at it only brought on more heaving, until I was still retching with nothing left in my stomach._ _

__“Ugh! Look at what you did! You are disgusting. Someone, get in here and clean this mess!” Shalria recoiled and called out the doors. My gut hadn’t settled down any and my cage was lifted and carried out of the room by two guards. It went dark._ _

___I had eaten a fishman. That used to be a person. I fucking ate a person._ _ _

__I broke. All of my willpower had left me in those few minutes. Before, I had just been complacent. The treatment I could ignore because the nobles were pieces of trash and I knew that. I was innocent._ _

___But I was a cannibal._ _ _

___And now, I was a monster too._ _ _

__I was dumped out of my cage into the dungeon. My paralyzed form tumbled out of the cage but I made no effort to move._ _

___I wasn’t innocent anymore. I had eaten a person. I was a monster._ _ _

___How long had I been eating fishman?_ _ _

___How many had I eaten?_ _ _

__I was purring. A small part of me knew cats would purr when they were upset too, but It was hardly a passing thought among my horror._ _

__Someone else’s purring joined mine._ _

___Mom_ _ _

___What would she think of me? Now that I was a monster._ _ _

___Would anyone be able to forgive me?_ _ _

___Was I no longer worthy of joining the straw-hats?_ _ _

__The purring was broken my attempted whispers. Mom was calling me. My back was to her. She was in a cell across the hallway._ _

__I looked before I could stop myself. Longing for my maternal figure overriding my self-deprecation._ _

__It was a mistake._ _

__My heart shattered when she gasped and covered her mouth. She had seen me break and was weeping because she could not protect her only daughter._ _

__‘what happened?’_ _

__I could read her lips. I closed my eyes, shaking my head and burying my head between my knees while I tugged down my ears again. It had become a defense mechanism. I trembled._ _

__The rustle of paper made itself known. Seconds later, a paper airplane and small stick of charcoal came through the bars. I left it where it had landed. A second grazed the tip of my ear and I flinched. On the third, I gave up._ _

___*Are you hurt? What happened? Why won’t you look at me? *  
*I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I have failed you as a mother. *  
*Please. I love you more than anything. Please tell me what they did. *_  
My heart clenched to think that I had made her doubt herself. Under the first sheet, I responded:  
_*I am unharmed. *_ I folded it and threw it back.  
Under the second:  
_*There was nothing you could have done. I wouldn’t have anyone else as a mother. *_  
Under the third, my handwriting was broken, and the writing almost illegible with how much I was shaking:  
_*They were feeding me fishman for months. I didn’t know. They turned me into a monster. *__ _

__I could hear her gasp. I could hear her fangs grind and her hands clench. I could smell the blood as her claws cut into her palms._ _

___BANG!_ _ _

__I jumped. I frantically looked toward mom._ _

___BANG!_ _ _

__She was ramming into the bars of her cell. The steel was actually bending with her assault._ _

___BANG! Sk-nap!_ _ _

__I retched again hearing the unmistakable sound of a bone snapping. I was shaking my head. I actually cried out and pleaded._ _

__“No!” I croaked. My voice was quiet and rough from disuse. “You’ll…hurt-”_ _

__**SKRRRRRRR** _ _

__The metal was torn enough that she had an opening to scramble out of her cell and collapse in front of mine._ _

__**SKRRRRRRR** _ _

__The bars of my cell were pried apart from her place on the floor and Mom crawled her way in. She picked me up like she used to and gave me a bone-crushing hug while rocking us both back an forth._ _

__thud-Thud-THUD- **SMACK!**_ _

__“WHAT’S GOING ON DOWN HERE!?” A guard had thrown open the door only to find two of the cells mangled from mom’s rampage. When he saw the state of the metal, he shrieked and called for backup. Three more guards came running._ _

__Mom held so tight that it hurt. Her arms could not be removed from me no matter how hard all four grown men tried to restrain her._ _

__“We need CP-0! Quickly!” One of the guards ran off in response. Two more went out the door to hold in incase mom decided to make a break for it. One remained, shaking as he backed up and grabbed a transponder snail from his belt._ _

__I didn’t ask mom to let go. I knew these people, this scum. Even if I tried to bargain for her, she would still end up being punished, so it was best I just take the time to be with her while I could. Maybe it would ease her mind during whatever punishment would be brought upon her._ _

__“Hi mom.” I choked. She squeezed tighter, but raised her shadowed eyes. There was so much anger there that I had never seen before, but it was washed away in favor of a broken look and indulgent smile._ _

__‘kit. You are no monster’ She whispered. My face twisted. She read it and pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her again._ _

__‘you didn’t know. They were the ones that killed the fishman. They were the ones that only gave it to you for food. You. Are. No. Monster. I don’t love you any less. If anything, I know this will make you even stronger’ I cried harder._ _

__“Mom” I wheezed. “I love you so much-”_ _

__“It’s Rob Lucci! Let him through!” The steps of well- polished boots clacked against the stone floors as a man in white made himself known._ _

__“Hmph. At least you were smart enough to not try escaping. Then we would have to kill you.” He caught a glance at me. “And there’s the cause. Figures. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned right?”_ _

__Mom’s eyes were shadowed again. Her hold on me loosened, knowing that it was time for her to face the music. As her arms left me, I wrapped mine around her as tightly as I could, slipping another note into her hand before releasing her and stepping back. Her eyes sparkled at me with pride at my intelligence before she turned and held her hands out for the expected chains. Lucci smiled with an expression that sharply contrasted the malice in his eyes._ _

__“No chains. I think you know what’s at stake. You wouldn’t escape, not with your precious brat still here.” Her hands dropped and she followed him out, the nose still resting in her padded hand._ _

___*Promise*_ _ _

__........................................................................................................................................................................_ _

__“McGarvey tells me that you haven’t been responding much to the punishments as of late, and you refuse to eat. What do you have to say for yourself?” Roswald spoke, circling around to my front. My arms were chained and pulled up to where I was on my tip-toes, leaving me fully exposed in front of the noble. Of course, I remained looking down and stayed quiet. My chin was pulled roughly upward by a gloved white hand and I was forced to look in to the eyes of the noble. I was unable to hole back a sneer, and he merely smiled darkly in response._ _

__“Is it because you finally realized what a pathetic waste you are? How you are nothing but an appalling demon?” I bit my lip to stop an insult. Even so, I couldn’t help the aversion of my eyes out of the guilt I still felt. Maybe I had accepted that it wasn't entirely my fault, but I felt dirty. Corrupted._ _

__“Freak” _I was. I was abnormal._  
“Monster” _I was. I had eaten someone_ He grinned, knowing he was getting to me  
“Mortal Rubbish.” _I was...__ _

___But he was so much worse than I could ever be._ _ _

__I met him with a glare that would have set him on fire if it could._ _

__“Feisty. I’ll have fun making you beg, filthy mortal.” I only gave him a look that said ‘bring it on’ but my bravado was quickly killed when Roswald picked a weapon from the stand, pressing a button that made it flash with electricity. Of all things, he had to pick the one that actually terrified me to my core…_ _

__“Ah, we have finally gotten to you~. Pity. Of all the things we have done a mere shock has you terrified.” I tried to back away unsuccessfully, still not in control of my phobia since it wasn't like storms happened often of this island paradise._ _

__And once more, came the first strike._ _

___One…. two…. three…._ _ _

__Usually it was twenty lashes. Across the back of the arms, across the legs, across the torso, anywhere that was accessible and not already bleeding heavily, but never daring to mar the ‘divine’ blood red brand of the Tenryuubito slave that adorned my right shoulder blade. They would then leave to let me bleed a bit before coming back for another 20 lashes maybe a day later._ _

__This time, the lashes were far, far more numerous, and accompanied by a familiar white-hot pain that buzzed throughout my entire body with each successive lash. It went on for three days. At night, I was allowed to rest as the nobles got their beauty sleep but was kept awake by some drug or byproduct of the electricity affecting my brain. When they woke, the pain began again and I would thrash silently when the shocks were flipped on. Even so, I had not uttered a cry, though hot tears streaked down my face. White, black. Pain, numb. Hot, cold. And back again. It cycled over, and over, until my body was painted red and my skin had actually cauterized at points with the heat of the constant arcing. My toes still pulsed and stung with Charlos’ contribution of ripping off my toenails at some point. Blood pooled to the floor from the raw capillaries that had been exposed. I think it’s safe to say that after that, my extreme fear of lightning and storms had been thoroughly reinforced. No chance of me getting over it anytime soon with that experience._ _

__This was how most of my days went now. In contrast to the feeding, nice clothes, walks, and small degree of freedom I got before the incident, my refusal to comply with them only caused me more pain._ _

___But it was ok. I deserved it. Better than eating a person, or being forced into something else equally as appalling._ _ _

__Time passed too quickly with the constant pain. Already I was six, and my once-pale skin had been scarred beyond belief. Nearly all of my arms and legs were marked with dark scar tissue. I had only seen mom once or twice since then, but each time we had been near each other, neither of us slept. We spent every hour we had together passing notes across the cells to each other, not wanting to waste a single moment. This time, however, mom looked troubled. She was staring blankly at a paper she had already scrawled a note on, obviously in deep thought since she jumped when I was brought in to the cell. She sighed when she made her decision and threw the sheet to me_ _

___*Kit, I need you to do something for me… *_ She had written. On guard immediately, I started scribbling my response._ _

___*Are you in trouble? Are you ok? You aren’t hurt, are you? I swear if those bastards did anything to you I’m going to gut them! *_ She shook her head._ _

___*You can’t stay here anymore. *_ _ _

__My heart froze and plummeted. She couldn’t possibly be suggesting-_ _

___*You are wasting away. I know you have a plan, and I know what you promised. I found a way to get you out of here. See if you can’t find the revolutionary army, or find a way to get strong enough to protect yourself. But I can’t bear to see you suffering like this anymore. *_ _ _

__Her eyes looked tired, but they were filled with love and a great burden. Tears leaked down my cheeks and I bit my lip, drawing blood with a fang in an attempt to halt the tears that refused to turn off even after all these years of suppressing them._ _

___*NO! I can’t leave you here! What if they catch you? They will kill you for sure! You remember what Lucci said! *_ I wrote back._ _

__She smiled somberly, the corners turning up before exposing a fang herself. Her eyes flashed with just a bit of mischief._ _

___*Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. Please, trust in me. You matter more to me than anything. Even If I don’t make it, I have my own plan to give them hell. But you have to leave, and I am willing to take the chance in order to allow you a better life. *_ _ _

__My eyes darted to hers and I whined in a plea. I begged her not to go through with this but I could see she had already made her decision, and knew that regardless of what I would try, she would force me to do this one way or another. Really, complying with her was the only way to do the least amount of harm to the plan and give both of us the best chance of survival._ _

__I loathed the idea of leaving mom behind. She had done so much for me and it just seemed wrong. Yet, I knew it was the best chance I had of getting out of here. Dejectedly, I wrote the only thing I could in a last-ditch effort to change her mind._ _

___*What if they try to trick me into coming back for you? *_ _ _

__Here she paused. She took a deep breath._ _

___*Either I make it out with you, or I’ll eliminate the possibility of you coming back. *_ _ _

___**SHIT FUCK NO NONONONONO! That meant…** _ _ _

__If she didn’t make it…. _she was going to kill herself_ so that I wouldn’t come back for her._ _

__I was both hurt and thankful for her honesty. We both knew that lies here would only be regretted. I was devastated that she would go to such a length but at least she was going to try and make it with me, not stay back and hold them off like some hero. Neither of us were strong enough for that. I nodded reluctantly, satisfied that at least she would try. I really didn’t like it…but it would have to work. I would make it work._ _

___*There’s one more thing. *_ I raised an eyebrow at her._ _

___*You need to build your strength up so we can make the run. You aren’t strong enough to make it right now. You are going to have to eat the fishman again. *_ _ _

__Ah. There's the catch._ _

__........................................................................................................................................................................_ _

__Six months later, I turned seven. It was autumn on the island._ _

__Mom had gotten more muscle with secret exercise. Her atrophied muscles were back in working condition, but she did look more tired._ _

__As much as I despise myself for it, I had regained enough weight to build my own muscle._ _

__Every bite was torture. I choked it down, praying that their death would aid me in making sure no-one else would have to go through this again. Each piece slid down my throat easily, numbly, though all I wanted to do was hurl into the nearest toilet. I stood strong and forced it down. I refused to let their deaths go to waste. No matter how much of a monster it made me._ _

__I behaved. I smiled. I groveled at their feet. I screamed when they flogged and electrocuted me. They thought I was broken. They got careless. They started letting me out more often._ _

__I got taken into town on walks and eventually was even allowed to visit mom. No longer confined to the tiny cage, I was allowed to roam and stretch my legs that had been so weak from being in that cramped position 23/24 hours a day. I didn't allow myself to be humiliated by nudity when dressed or tortured, or the stares and whispers as I was waltzed around town on all fours, leash in Sharlia's hand. I would meow when prompted, never talking to them directly, and beam at them like their insults meant the world to me. Oh, the smiles were genuine._ _

__It helped when I could always picture the thousands of ways I was going to make them suffer when this plan actually succeeded. I was beaming because I was imagining their faces when I came back to give them a taste of their own medicine. Their pompous air slowly turning to a spicy fear as they realized just how badly they had fucked up. I could envision it so clearly._ _

___I would kill Charlos first, ripping off his toenails and serving them to him with a side of raw fish. Have him meow for me like the bitch he is. Then, I'll make Shalria and Roswald starve until they beg, and then I can force feed the rotten bits of him to them. Imagine the look on their faces when I tell them exactly what they just ate._ _ _

__So maybe I was a bit knocked in the head too. It happens when you are physically and psychologically tormented for _seven years.__ _

__But back to mom. She had lost fur and weight, but she was still holding strong. I spent all the time I could with her just writing, talking with her, exchanging stories and I even sung to her. I only allowed her to hear my voice. She said it was the most angelic sound she had ever heard. It gave both of us hope._ _

__Six months later, and tonight was the night we had chosen, mom had fashioned her old rags into a knapsack and filled it with some of the hidden stories of my childhood, her stash of trinkets, and the One-Piece story we had put under lock and key. She had burned the rest of the pages in secret, keeping only a few with extensive summaries. I was almost ready to head out when she stopped me, holding out her hands. I gasped._ _

__Two opalescent rings reflecting the candle light lay in her paws alongside a note and slip of paper that I instantly recognized. On her ears were the matching set of piercings. I decided to read the note later and instead nearly crushed mom in a hug. She only squeezed me tighter when she felt her fur get wet with my face buried in it, petting my hair with the rings held out of the way. She nuzzled me and kissed me between the ears, pulling back with the unspoken message. We had said our goodbyes just in case. It was time to execute the plan._ _

__We were going to be in so much trouble for this…_ _

___Ka-click!_ _ _

__Mom was a total Badass. She lived up to the trash-panda-ninja legacy. The sound of our cells unlocking was muffled by her paws. It was the next part that had me worried._ _

__“50 ticks. The ticking gets faster, so be sure to keep up. On the last tick, pull the pin and throw the collar at the wall.” Mom nodded. We both took deep breaths._ _

___Ok….1……….2………3….._ _ _

___…47…48…49….CLICK!_ _ _

__**BOOM!** _ _

__“Ah! One of the collars must have exploded!”_ _

__“The slaves have escaped! Quickly, after them!”_ _

__Our steps were soundless as we streaked through the night of the new moon, unseen to all. Somehow, mom had the ability to shroud us in a familiar darkness._ _

__Rescind the badass comment. Mom was the fucking GOAT of all Badassery._ _

__She was also the user of the Yami-Yami no mi. The very fruit that made Blackbeard the menace that he was._ _

__The thought made me shiver. Just maybe, it could be kept out of his hands. No Blackbeard, no Ace dying, right?_ _

__Mom was invisible in the darkness of the night. Even as I could hear the alarms ring out and the palace being rampaged, nobody came after us. We made it to the docks without a single person the wiser, even CP-0 was clueless. Nobody had any idea that mom had the devil fruit. We boarded the smallest ship at the docks, what tiny possessions we had with us dropped to the base of the boat, and I pushed it out to sea. Mom shrouded us in darkness that matched the pitch-black sea. As the light of the prison that had kept us for so many years grew more distant, my hopes rose higher than they ever had. I didn’t dare tempt murphy though, not with the name of D. on my head. I wasn’t that stupid._ _

__The next step was an extra precaution that I thought up. Nobody would have expected it. It was a very D. plan after all. Grinning at our success so far, we each hopped into separate waterproof barrels, splitting the contents of the knapsack between us, and pushing off the tiny boat while simultaneously sealing the barrels tops._ _

__It was a good thing I’d thought of it too. Seconds later and we would have found ourselves in a likeness to Sabo, but far more dead. A barrage of fire rained down on the ship we had been on, setting it alight from what I could see out of the hole in the barrel. Beaming, I plugged it with the cork. We had done it. They would think us dead, and even if they didn’t, they would be searching for a mother and her child together. We had to split up._ _

__We wouldn’t be able to meet, probably even years from now. But she knew where I was going and had a copy of the One-Piece summary to follow me, so she would be able to keep tabs on me when it was safe to find me. As for me?_ _

__I was constantly staring at the tiny slip of paper she had given me along with the earrings. She had been able to hide away a Vivre card all these years, and though some of it had burned along with her vitality during torture sessions, the piece I held was still pristine._ _

__I fell asleep to the rocking of the waves, content that I was finally free at last._ _

__........................................................................................................................................................................  
A/N so. A bit dark…. also, not incredible I know but I had too many ideas and I just ran with it. 27 pages of content and the next chapter is whenever things really start to pick up. You’ll get to see more of her quirks since really this was more of a prologue and she wasn’t allowed development in slavery. Basically, a ton of exposition sorry. How did you like the little details tho huh? The yami yami no miiii, the fishman, yeah, just imagine how rough fishman island is gonna be huh?_ Ps. Im so sorry the italics aren't consistent this html stuff has my head spinning. _


	2. All good stories start with a barrel and end with chocolate

A/N that nobody reads.  
I was not actually expecting anyone to read this story. I am so sorry you were subjected to my writing skills or lack thereof. Have an awkward bird thing as consolation for ignoring everyone for a couple months:  
I was taking a winter-mester since I flunked math and need it as a prereq for all my engineering shit. Ironic isn’t it? Then I wasn’t doing well In engineering and ultimately changed majors. So…  
I have never written so much in my life. I have like four chapters planned so far and they are all going to be around 30 pages long at this rate. Honestly, I was torn between having SI reborn without “the knowledge” ™ and I was 100% going to kill off Alice before I wanted SI to actually be smart because she is a functioning adult in a child body and it seemed expected. In one chapter I’ve completely derailed canon and confused myself but I’m kind of into it. Screw canon (but actually don’t I need to have at least one non-tangent). I PROMISE IM GOING TO TRY NOT TO MAKE SI INTO A MARY-SUE.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Simon! It’s not a barrel of beer, it’s a child!” A blond man outfitted in a gaudy orange Elizabethan ensemble leaned dangerously far over the railing, squinting into the distance.

“The hell? What’s a kid doing in a barrel all the way out here? There’s no land for days…” spoke a second, sullen looking man wearing more reasonable blue-toned gothic attire. The former bounced back and landed on the soles of his pointed shoes with an audible thud, the feather in his riding hat almost snapping with the sudden motion.

“I dunno! But you haul it in and try to crack the lid, I’m going to send Marcy your way and contact the commander. Better be quick about it. Feels as though they have had a rough time. Poor thing.” The man waved and took off toward the ship’s cabin while the other hunched over looked disgruntled. 

“I don’t even know how to deal with kids…” With a sigh, Simon begrudgingly removed his tailcoat, top hat, and gloves, setting them to the side. He ran a hand through his slicked back black locks in frustration before effortlessly hopping over the rails down into a rowboat and lowering it into the water. “What if it’s a trap? Clemens does tend to jump to conclusions, the fool...” He argued to himself but sighed in defeat, because he too could feel that it wasn’t the case. Simon couldn’t feel an ounce of ill intent from the barrel’s occupant as he approached it. At his arrival, he hoisted the barrel into the boat, stumbling a bit at the unexpected lightness.

“Damn, this kid must be all bones.” He righted himself quickly and set the barrel down carefully.

By the time he got back, it seemed word had gotten around to the crew and practically half the ship was scrambling on deck in concern, but armed should it prove to be a trap.

“Are they ok!?”

“Their willpower is so weak…”

“C’mon get it open! Whoever it is, they are hurt!”

The crewmates clamored at a distance. Simon slipped a dagger out of his boot and wedged it in to the top, levering it off with an audible *crack*. The crowd stiffened in anticipation. Lifting the lid off, Simon’s eyes widened at the sight of a girl who couldn’t be more than 5 or 6 with how small she was. Curled up tightly in the floor of the barrel, her bloodied and torn white dress was terribly loose on her frame, showing off a tapestry of light scar tissue on every part of her uncovered skin. Disheveled hair curtained most of her face from view.

“Marcy! She needs you.” Simon turned away from the barrel and called out, his usual stoic tone holding the slightest hint of panic. A blonde woman in a nurse’s outfit pushed through the crowd hurriedly. Simon’s attention was pulled back to the child when he heard a sharp intake of breath as she stirred from the light that now intruded upon her encasement. He stepped back a bit when she tensed and saw a glimpse of unfocused golden eyes beneath heavy lids. Marcy quickened her pace toward the two.

There was something like a bark heard from the barrel and it tipped over. The now very-much-awake child scrambled backward out of the capsule on all fours, chest low to the floor and golden eyes darting around in panic. When she caught sight of the pair, her body dropped even lower and she began backing up as a guttural growl cautioned them from approaching. At the sight of the terrified child, there was almost audible heart-break that went around to every person. Simon was deeply unsettled, not wanting to think about the cause of her behavior. Even so, they had to calm her down somehow. Judging by the wincing and the fact that she was leaving a red trail, she had opened up one of her more recent wounds and desperately needed treatment.

“Hey! We aren’t going to hurt you. We got you out of that barrel. There’s no land for miles all around but we can give you whatever you want, ok?” Marcy stepped forward, her palms turned out and slowly lowering herself in an attempt to appear less threatening while motioning the crew to stand down and hide their weapons. For a moment it seemed to work. The growling stopped at least, and there was a glimmer of curiosity in the hesitant gaze that replaced the scathing glare. 

“Good. My name is Marcy. I am this ship’s doctor and I want to help you stop hurting. To do that, I need to be able to come closer and touch you, but I won’t unless you say yes or nod alright?” The girl relaxed a small amount, but raised herself enough to shake her head and start glaring again. The intimidation effect was ruined by her cringing at the tug on her wounds that caused her to curl back up. Marcy looked up at Simon in worry. Simon grunted, knowing that was his cue to try his luck.

“Look, kid. You’re bleeding out. At this rate, you can choose to be healed and we’ll take care of anything you need, or you pass out from blood loss and all that happens anyway, you’re just helpless instead.” He scratched behind his head, leaning down to pick his jacket back up. “But I think you would rather be awake for that huh? Besides, you’ll want to be awake for dinner at least. We have one of the best cook-”

*GROOOOOOWWWWLLLLL*

The sound startled him out of his rambling at the sheer volume. Even its source seemed shocked as her face burned while she looked down in embarrassment and pain, clutching her stomach. Marcy recovered first, chuckling.

“Sound’s good doesn’t it? We promise that none of us will put you in danger. I don’t know where you came from, but we aren’t going to send you back ok? Promise.” With that bit of reassurance, the girl looked back up and after a few seconds, finally nodded her consent. Marcy let out a breath of relief. 

“Do you think you could walk? My equipment is in my office. I could bring it out here if you wanted but we would need to go there eventually.” The girl shakily walked her hands back, straightening her legs beneath her. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to collapse again before a flash of color flicked out behind her and she got ahold of her balance. Marcy smiled at her progress. The girl limped over to the fallen barrel and retrieved a small parcel before turning back to the nurse and nodding.

“Alright then, follow me. Ignore the rest of the crew, they are just worried about you too.” And with that, the girl trailed after the resident nurse, keeping a fair distance as she examined the gathering that made sure to steer clear of her path.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Here we are. Go ahead and take off your dress, it’s ruined anyway. I’m having you borrow a shirt from another of our crewmembers until we can find you something suitable but for now, let’s just take a look at the damage.” Marcy slid gloves on with practiced ease, but turned around to find that her patient had made no move to comply with her instructions. Her brow furrowed. “Honey, you really need that dress off. At this point it looks like we may have to cut it off with all the dried blood on it though.” The girl only clutched her dress tighter, her eyes hidden from view. 

“Alright. I’m going to cut down the back so I can get a full look at you.” There was no response to her comment, but neither was there any move to stop her as she got closer and began cutting the back of her dress.

Near instantly, she realized the cause of her patient’s distress. Marcy inhaled sharply, her patient tensing at her discovery. It was no small degree of anger simmering beneath her professional exterior when she saw the unmistakable mark of the hoof of the flying dragon accompanied by deep whip-wounds that were years old. She bit her lip to get ahold of her killing intent but her eyes still welled as her heart throbbed for her young patient. Year old scars…yet she was so young. How long had she been in the hands of the celestial dragons?

“…. Whichever one of them did this to you…that embarrassment of the human race deserves to rot in the deepest, hottest pit of hell. This is…” Marcy choked back a sob, her hand hovering over the marred skin. A flash of color startled her when she saw that it was, in fact, a rosy furred tail flicked upward. It drooped lightly back on to the table and two pointed triangles made themselves known on top of her head. Marcy’s scientist side was immensely curious about her new discovery but she forced her instincts down and set herself to begin treating her patient as promised.

There was a silent understanding between the two as Marcy went about washing the caked blood off from around the clotted wounds. Three rolls of gauze, two bottles of ointment, and some painkillers later, the young one looked more mummy than mink, but it looked like she was much more comfortable.

A soft knock on the door signified the arrival of another, just as Marcy tucked the last of the gauze around a small, calloused foot.

“Ah, finally. Ranpa, meet our little guest.” Lavender wisps of hair trailed loosely behind an orientally decorated form, elegantly striding into the room with a bundle of cloth in deceptively delicate arms. Marcy turned to address the girl. “You’ll be borrowing some of his clothes in the meantime until we figure out what to do next.” Ranpa bowed a small degree at his introduction.

“I hope these will suffice for the time being. Other than my every-day wear this is the only thing I wouldn’t need to alter. Have you ever worn a haori before?” Pinkish ears flicked forward, getting a brow raise from the effeminate male, but a head shake prompted him to continue with his intentions. “Alright, can you stand?” This time, she slowly scooched herself off the table, landing silently on the balls of her feet. She winced from her wounds, but stood strong and looked up at Ranpa. A degree of shock and pride were felt by the adults in the room at her display of endurance.

Ranpa unraveled the bundle of cloth, revealing it to be a green haori with small primroses dancing across the fabric paired with a pink sash. The girl immediately shrank back and looked down, visibly feeling undeserving of such a work of art. 

“Don’t worry about getting it dirty or anything. The fabric is quite easy to wash and I haven’t worn this one in a while. Come here, I’ll put it on you.” Ranpa coaxed her out of her shell, internally chuckling a bit when he saw how red her face was. Not minutes later, and the mini-mummy was fully dressed. 

“Well aren’t you the dashing little one. Come to think of it, we never did ask for your name did we?” Marcy commented off-handedly. The girl froze. Fear creeped in to her eyes. She fidgeted and started glancing around: a common sign that she felt trapped and was looking for an exit. Marcy hurriedly backtracked in an attempt to rekindle the progress she had made in gaining her trust. “You don’t have to tell us your real name, but we at least need something to call you by that you’ll respond to. ok?” The girl’s look turned more contemplative, her eyes glazing over and brow furrowing as she tried to think of a response. The long pause had the adults fretting, wondering if the child could even speak-

“kit.” 

A small, raspy voice suddenly whispered. Marcy almost wondered if she had heard it at all. Blinking a few times in confusion, she realized that her question had indeed been answered. She smiled.

“Well then Kit. Welcome aboard.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Oi Simon! Check on the lass would ye? Tell’em dinner’ll be up in just a moment.” A heavily accented voice yelled from the kitchens. Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Why must everyone feel the need to shout my name every five seconds on this ship?’ he wondered to himself before taking off in the direction of the sickbay, stopping just outside the doorway when he heard Marcy’s voice.

“…-so you’re actually half mink then? How curious. I’ve seen half fishman and half giants, not to mention hundreds of zoan-fruits, but I wonder why I’ve never actually heard of a half mink~” Marcy was practically flitting around like a hummingbird, giving a full blown examination to Kit, who was looking extremely uncomfortable but made no move to stop her caretaker. Actually, she looked almost amused? Simon decided now was the time to interrupt, and knocked to announce his presence.

“Oh! Simon! Just in time. Kit here is all bones. I assume you are here to tell us dinner is ready?” Marcy hopped up, taking off her various medical contraptions.

“You got it in one. Well, Birger is having you go early so that we don’t overwhelm her…She’ll meet the crew one at a time rather than the usual dinnertime chaos.” Simon rolled his eyes, refocusing on the youngest. “So, how do you feel about chicken soup?”

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

“Well that answers that.” Ranpa had both eyebrows raised at Kit’s roaring stomach. “If it hurts too much to walk, I’d be happy to carry you instead.” He looked down to Kit, who fervently shook her head in response. She instead stepped forward after re-gaining her parcel from earlier and opted to stand by the door awaiting a guide. Not one for talk, Simon just turned and made his way back to the dining hall, checking to make sure the kid could keep up with his pace.

“Ah, Simon!” ‘Yes, that is my name. Stop yelling it.’ Simon noted with some amusement that his follower was also cringing from Birger’s loud voice. “Sit the lass down and a’il have a bowl come out to ye.” Simon silently nodded toward the bench at the table they were in-front of, signaling for the kid to get herself situated.

She hopped up feet-first on to the bench, strangely, her landing barely audible, and crouched back on to her heels. Her tail waved behind her in anticipation, flicking beneath the fabric of her borrowed outfit as her nose tilted into the air with her eyes closed. ‘More like a cat than I thought. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.’ Simon mused as he watched her. He and the others took their own seats in turn.

“Right! None of us have been properly introduced.” Marcy clapped in realization. She turned to Kit. “Ranpa is basically our live-in tailor. He makes and repairs most of our clothes when we get in to scuffles. He’ll have something made however you want it by the end of the week.” Kit seemed surprised at the news, examining her borrowed shirt-turned-dress, then bowing toward its artist.

“No need to thank me. I’m glad it’s getting put to good use. I can easily make another.” Ranpa bowed back. Marcy Snickered.

“You’re just glad you have someone to play dress-up with.” Ranpa deadpanned halfheartedly but she continued. “Then we have Simon over here. He’s the one who fetched and opened your barrel actually, so you’ve met before?” Marcy explained animatedly. “Simon here is our ship’s Musician and one of its many swordsmen. It’s ok though, he might look scary-”

“Hey.”

“-and his brooding can be worse a rebellious teenager-”

“Hey! If you have an issue with me-”

“-but he’s really just a big softy. Plus, he really likes cats so I’m sure you’ll get along fine~” Marcy finished off with a mischievous grin. Simon just growled his displeasure but gave it up quickly. There was no reasoning with morons, it would seem. Rather, he turned his thoughts to the kid’s unexpected silence. He had never seen any child as docile as she was.

“Last but not least, say hello to Kit!” Marcy presented the girl. “She’s had a rough time but she’s really strong. She’s actually half-mink can you believe it!? I’ll be honest I didn’t even know if minks and humans could…be compatible but really her physiology is more like that of a mink. A cat mink no less! Domestic strainsaresoraretooSheevenhasTHREEtrapeziaandhereyesworklikeahumansbutwithatapetum”

“Breathe woman! None of us here can understand your medical nonsense but good for her.” Simon rubbed his temples in annoyance, Marcy was fighting for air, and Kit just seemed very lost and uncomfortable.

“Oi! One Chicken pot as ordered, right y’self and get on withit.” Birger expertly spun the filled bowls around the table, each landing in front of its intended recipient. The portly redhead stroked his beaded beard. “Lass, ye can’t have anything too rich yet, but I’ll have yer system back up ‘n runnin in time for me prized dish. It’ll knock yer tastebuds into next week like nothin you’ve ever had.” 

“I think it’s pretty obvious now, but Birger is the head cook here. A couple more work in the back with him but he is the mastermind.” Ranpa interjected in place of the bubbly nurse, who was still dizzy with oxygen deprivation and a disorganized medical mind. 

Kit still hadn’t made a sound. She just stared into her bowl with an unreadable expression. The clamor died down a bit.

“Kit? Are you alright?” Ranpa voiced his concern. Birger chipped in. Simon began getting more uncomfortable as the kit wouldn’t respond.

“Kit is it? Somethin abou’ the soup? Ye ain’t one of them ‘vegetarian’ minks is ye? Can ye choke it down? Ye need the stren’th.” He crossed his arms, insisting she at least attempt to eat. It was like she was in a trance. She probably didn’t even hear them because she was so focused on the bowl.

She didn’t make a move to eat it. She smelled it a bit, and her stomach was rumbling near constantly, but she shrank back from the meal provided.

Marcy frowned in confusion. “It’s ok. You still don’t trust us I guess…We can be patient. Here, I’ll take the first bite so you know its ok, alright?” Kit just shook her head, leaving her more confused. She didn’t know what to say or do. The others looked just as lost. “Would you be ok with just the broth? Water? Anything?” Kit continued staring off into the table, her breathing becoming labored. Marcy knew that look. Her eyes widened.

“Simon, Ranpa, step back and make room.” They did as asked, soundlessly moving the table right before Kit collapsed in a fit of hyperventilation, writhing as she tried to curl in to protect herself. Marcy went down with her.

“Breathe Kit.” She set the child’s seizing form against the wall, not restraining her but holding her shoulders to ground her. Kit fought at first, but when nothing harmed her, she resorted to curling up in the new position.

“Inhale, two, three, four, Exhale, two, three, four-” Kit heard the mantra at least, and started breathing to the numbers though her attention was still elsewhere. It took much repetition before she finally came down to a level Marcy deemed acceptable.

“Kit, you have to listen to me. Its Marcy. Not them.” The tremors calmed, but Kit started shaking her head and covering her ears, swiveled back on her head. Marcy gently pulled her hands away. “I am not going to force you to look at me, but try.” A sliver of awareness. Good.

“Kit, you are on a ship far away from whoever hurt you. I guarantee we won’t do anything to hurt you or send you back. Not that we could.” Marcy hesitated, knowing the next statement might make things worse. 

“We are Whitebeard pirates after all.”

Kit’s head snapped to attention, zeroing in on Marcy.

“……new…gate?....” She whispered. Marcy was shocked to hear her speak of her own volition, especially after a panic attack that bad, but gathered herself quickly.

“Yes, Edward Newgate, Whitebeard, is out captain. We are the third branch of the #16th division led by commander Izo. You are here with us…right?” Kit still didn’t look up but nodded. “Good. You just had a Post-Traumatic-Stress attack and were remembering whatever happened before you came here. I need to know why so I can make sure it doesn’t happen again ok?” No response. Marcy sighed.

“Maybe we could try another day. How about you get some rest instead-”

“…i…want to hunt…” Marcy stopped.

“You…hunt?” She was as confused as Simon felt. Unless? Simon decided to try a different direction.

“You can hunt with Birger tomorrow when it’s still light outside. There will probably be a few fish-” _*WINCE*_ “…or birds to shoot down that would make for a good meal. Birger usually doesn’t like people in the kitchen bit I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you.” He voiced from the border of the room. Kit seemed to relax a bit, looking up to Simon thankfully for not questioning her. Marcy backed off. Kit’s stomach growled again but it was ignored.

“I’ll let you find where you want to sleep tonight. Simon (‘oi don’t volunteer me-’) will give you a tour since you seem decently comfortable with him. All I ask is that you get a solid four hours of sleep so you can heal easier.” Marcy stood and backed her way out of the room, stopping for a moment to look back before shutting the heavy wooden doors.

“Stars only know what that child had been through…” And Marcy walked away, eyes drooping in a look far beyond her years. “Time to update the Commander.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Daylight roused me from my slumber. I played possum hoping that Shalria would just think me still asleep and not try to…to…This wasn’t my cage or the dungeon. My memories of escaping began returning and I realized that I was still in the barrel, but sunlight could only mean it was…OPEN!

Open is danger. It hurts. It’s bright. Who…Where…Was that growl coming from me?  
Help? It hurts…help…Hungry…I was Mercury but…“kit”. Then there were Clothes...Real clothes…Everything was just a blur, it was going too fast. It has to be a dream. Everything too good to be true is a dream.  
“Whitebeard”

It finally clicked.

“It’s real.…I made it out?...” I looked at my saviors, really looked for the first time. Simon, I think, nodded firmly while staring into my eyes, not saying anything. Ranpa? Just looked relieved.

For all of my time appeasing the dragons, not once did I shed tears except for my mother, but with the prospect of freedom finally attainable? I completely bawled for the first time since I was two months old. I didn’t care that others were around, or how loud I was. My lungs hurt from screaming my victory to the world. No more Shalria, or Charlos, or collars. I had control again. It was quiet and I finally got to cry for myself. I think at some point, I smiled too.

Above all reigned one thought. _I survived._

The two adults left in the room, thankfully left me alone till I had a semblance of composure. Ranpa stepped forward as my volume died down and pulled me into his lap, hugging me and covering me with his blanket-like sleeves. A couple people walked in to the mess for dinner, curious as to the racket but a glare from Ranpa sent them away with the clear message of ‘do not disturb.’ I was thankful and exhausted. But I was one step further to freedom. Now I just had to stay free. For that, I needed to get stronger.

Even so, I was still fighting sleep at this point. I felt like I ran a marathon. My eyes were heavy and sniffles fewer and farther between.

I remember looking up at Ranpa. He smiled.

_stupid luck of the D…..thank you_

I slipped away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Aww come on fireball! You can’t stay on the ship forever. You need stuff, interaction, and clothes for everyday use. We could find a style for you!” Clemens pouted up at ‘Kit’ in the Crow’s nest. Mercury just hissed down at him, proceeding to make a show of bedding down where she already sat. Her tail lazily draped over the side, tip flicking every few seconds. Clemens tapped his foot impatiently, thinking of a way to get her down of her own volition. She really did need to get used to people other than them if she wanted to rid any suspicion directed toward her. Kids her age were supposed to like playing with other kids and toys and-

“Bingo” Clemens’ grin turned mischievous.

“Clem. Don’t do it.” Simon tried to argue. Clemens just waved him off and called out.

“Oh Fireball~ IF you go, we’ll do whatever you want there, no questions asked eh? Whatever food, clothing, item, or activity, you name it. I’ll make it happen but only IF you come. What do you say?” A pinkish tail went still and narrowed eyes peered over the edge of the platform. His grin got wider. Simon facepalmed. “I want you to know, there is no ‘we’. YOU dug this grave yourself.” That stopped the orange-man.

“….Anything?...” Suddenly realizing the gravity of what he just offered, Clemens’ smile dropped into horror. Heart, meet stomach. But he had promised…so he nodded.

“….tattoo…”

Oh boy….Marcy was going to kill him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Hard to believe it’s been almost two months of freedom. I had improved. The crew never questioned my quirks or workarounds. It made reintegration a bit easier all things considered. That being said…

I didn’t want to go. Towns meant people. People meant strangers. Strangers meant danger. I hated shopping anyway. It was just too fun to mess with Clemens. Being the impromptu comedian, and I subject to his constant hype-man behavior, I couldn’t pass the opportunity. Besides. I needed a tattoo anyway. A pretty specific one…

But I didn’t have to make it easy for him.

“Fireball-OW! Owowowplease. Come..ON! WAH!” With an almighty yank, Clemens pulled me from the doorframe I had latched on to, leaving scratch marks in the stained wood. I turned to start clawing his arm but- “owowow…ahah!” he pulled me away from him, still not breaking his grip on the back of my shirt. Instantly I fell lax in his hold, just staring at him…..my limbs were too short to reach him now…

“….huh….just like a kitten.” I glared, still simmering at my loss. He only gave me a smug grin and hauled me off to the dock ramp. He snatched a random cap off the nearest cabin boy (Who shouted ‘hey!’ but couldn’t find his assailant) and covered my ears with it. It felt weird. My hearing was muffled and I went to toss it but he held it in place. I pouted.

“Oh, don’t give me that kicked kitten look. You need your own stuff and you don’t need to be recognised.” He sniffed, then turned to walk on the dock.

I blame my stumbling on 2 months of sea-leg gaining. Flat land was weird. I was pulled along in a nauseated trance, sobering as we reached the borders of the port.

I hadn’t been this close to a real town in ages. The noble towns preferred prejudiced glares and whispers when I came near, but here…It was so loud. Everything reeked of something or another and it was too bright outside the ship’s low lighting indoors. The sensory overload alone had me on the verge of passing out before Clemens had swerved off into a shop with mannequins in the windows. It was a bit more manageable inside, but when I was put down to stand, he had to catch me to keep me balanced until I adjusted. Already I was getting a headache.

“Ah, I’ll be right with you!” Came a muffled voice from an open door behind the back counter.

“Here, wrap this around your face for now.” he had untied the bandanna under his hat and kneeled behind me, tying it around my nose and mouth. The surprisingly chilled temperature of it numbed my nose to most of the smells, replacing it with the familiar citrus I recognized from Clemens. “You good?” I nodded, dizzied by the action but I didn’t stumble this time. She smiled. Not long after, A rotund woman came out the employee doors.

“Sorry about the wait. Oh? Based on the looks of it you’re here for the little one, aren’t you?” She had given us a quick once over, bending down to my level. _Danger_ “Anything in particulate you want missy?” She leaned forward, making me stumble back with wide eyes. Luckily, Clemens noticed my discomfort and shielded me a bit _DANGER_. I latched on to his poofy pant leg as he did the talking, allowing me to hide behind his form. The further away the lady’s attention got, the more I found myself willing to take a look around.

‘Earthy’ was a good description for the place. I could vaguely scent something like woodlands beyond the bandanna. Much better than the frilly store across the street. Honestly, Hot pink and green? Eugh. No, I much preferred the more neutral tones of this place. ‘Clem picked well’ I thought begrudgingly…

But that coat…looked awfully enticing…so did that vest…

I hesitantly made my way over to them, noting that the green overcoat was far too big for my form now, but made of what smelled like a tree? Maybe Ranpa could figure it out… But I snatched one off the hanger and used it as a sack to toss the rest of what caught my eye.

That scarf over there was a must. If this was any indication of what it was going to be like going into town on any island, anything vaguely mask-like to filter smell would be a necessity. I snatched the strip of yellow cloth off the rack, alongside a few bandannas in the same yellow-ochre. Might as well go for a ‘look’. I was quick to pile up a bunch of random shirts and shorts in green, a few sweaters, and a pair of white-camo pants that caught my attention. I just wanted out as quickly as possible. I hoisted the bags and got ready to bolt out of the store as Clem paid.

Freezing for a beat, I also grabbed a hat so I could return this one to whichever poor cabin boy Clem stole it from.

I had to admit…I kind of enjoyed it.

Well, now I could be as extra as all the rest of the D’s. 

“Thanks for your purchase! Have a nice-”

*SLAM*

“….day?”

My collar was YET AGAIN tugged back and I was lifted off the ground. I was starting to hate this whole “being treated like dirty laundry” thing. I groaned my displeasure, making sure Clem knew that I was not a happy customer right now. 

“Pipe down. I did promise you right? One more thing, then we can head back to the ship.” I squirmed to the best of my ability for the few minutes we were walking, but fell lax when I saw the name of the shop we had stopped in front of.

*Libera Ink*

….Just this once, I wouldn’t complain…Tears pricked the corners of my eyes when I realized what it meant.

A small bell chimed as we walked into the dark shop. Drawings littered the walls, likely the designs from previous customer’s tattoos. Clem caught the attention of the only worker in the shop at the time, waving him over. When the 30-something man caught sight of me, he lifted a brow.

“Am I to assume the kid wants an inking? Sorry, I don’t ink children. No self-respecting artist would.” He flippantly pointed over his shoulder with a thumb toward the door, turning away to go back to re-stocking bottles. My stomach dropped and I grimaced. I wanted something to commemorate my freedom so badly but it looked like even that wasn’t possible.

“Hmm. Wonder what her last artist would say about that.” He froze at Clem’s offhanded comment. I did as well, betrayal making my mind go cold. Clem…he wouldn’t give me up would he?

“And who exactly was her last artist?” 

“5-Star Snake Bait.” That seemed to take him aback.

“Shit…but she’s so young!? I…” he sighed, pressing a palm to his forehead. When he recovered, he turned to me. “Hey kid, call me Andros…do you really have-?…of all things…Fine but it’ll be an upcharge. Give me a moment. Kid, can I see the mark? I need to feel it to assess the tissue damage.” He looked uneasy, trying not to make eye contact. I was still slightly reeling from whatever code language just went down. Did he mean? This _brand_? Could he get it off?

_libera….liberty?_

I turned around slowly, still hiding a bit behind Clem, shrugging off my makeshift-kimono from Ranpa, to reveal my back to Andros. It still felt _wrong_ but… _WRONG!_ I jumped back after a spike of pain shot through my spine, knocking my head against a counter, curling in on myself after feeling a warm hand push at the mark. He quickly pulled back.

“Dammit, sorry…We’ll have to do a coverup. The ink breached muscle in some places so it can’t be removed. I’ll draw up a few designs and you can pick from those, ok kid?” He stood, I was still hesitant, but moved forward. “Go ahead and wait in the chair with your…. guardian. I’ll be back in a minute.” He went into the back. A sudden rush of panic overtook me. What if he was calling someone to take me back? Just the mere thought had me rushing into the back room as soon as Clem took his eye off me. I snuck behind one of the tables so Andros couldn’t see me. Clem would know what I’m doing.

He really was drawing. Paper and charcoal scattered around him and a nearby trash bin. It was a bit nostalgic. I managed to sneak a half-used stick from the pile and a mostly blank sheet of paper, and started on my own idea. By the time Andros noticed I was tampering with his stuff, I’d already gotten a half sketch done.

“Oi kid, what are you doing in-….huh.” He leaned over my page that I was too enthralled to notice his hovering with. “That’s not half bad.” This time, I did glare up at him. Sticking my tongue out in a surprisingly childish action. He gave a startled chuckle.

It was fairly simple. I didn’t want to totally hide the symbol. I drew inspiration from the sun pirates actually. However, instead of a red circle bordered by a halo of fire, my design kept more to traditional works, the rays around it reminiscent of ‘the rising sun’ bordered by waves and black clouds. The Roman Numeral for 7 (VII) centered in the red circle Slight plagiarism, but nobody in this world was going to know right?

“This is going to take a while though. You sure you can sit still that long?” I deadpanned. He raised his arms in surrender. “Just thought I’d ask. You looked like you were in a hurry earlier and this is going to take at least six hours, understand?” I nodded. My hope at finally removing the last physical marker of my former life was greater than any anxiety I had right now. Clem chose that moment to stick his head in, revealing his spying with an unapologetic grin.

“I’m going to finish going around town for supplies and anything else you might need. I’ll be back in six hours then to pick you up.” I nodded, only half listening as I envisioned the masterpiece that would be forever engraved on me. Only a few instructions later and I was lying face down on the table with my haori pulled down to my waist, exposing the marker of my past. Andros grunted, looking between my drawing and my back before pinning it up on a reference board and prepping the workstation in silence.

He didn’t bother to make conversation, just warned me once that he was starting and the needle would be somewhat painful. He worked in a comfortable silence. Maybe too comfortable. Despite how the stabbing pain of the needle was a skin-crawling reminder of my former imprisonment, I dozed off. I’d learned that sleep was an excellent coping mechanism, so I didn’t fight it and let my mind fall blank.

Exactly six hours later as the sun fell behind the horizon, as promised, my slightly plagiarized masterpiece had transformed the brand into the new symbol of my freedom. I practically skipped through the empty village in euphoria at the weight that had been lifted. Even when I got back to the ship, I had excitedly shown Simon, Ranpa and anyone else who wasn’t busy with their posts for the time being. I could see the dread wash over Clem as I finally got to Marcy.

“It’s beautiful honey~ you designed it yourself too! But do tell me…Who was responsible for the idea in the first place?” I didn’t even hesitate to throw Clem under the Bus.

“CLEEEEEEEEEMENS!!!!!!!”

Ah, maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all~

…

I take it back. This was the worst day of my entire after-life. I was devastated. Utterly inconsolable.  
The whole reason we had gone to town was because someone had figured out it was my birthday. Birger had made a huge chocolate cake and the rest of the crew threw a massive party. The worst part?

I…was allergic….to CHOCOLATE. 

I spent the next few hours expelling everything from my system and feeling downright miserable while Marcy fawned over me in my pitiful state. Never would I be able to taste Sanji’s delicacies of the cocoa variety…all was lost. Maybe I was overreacting a bit but still. I missed chocolate ok?

Sanji…The crew would be going through so much in these next few years. Character development and all, but it really got me thinking. I loved this new little family I had formed. I didn’t want to leave them…

But there was a storm coming.

And damned if I didn’t at least try to rewrite the future. I am a D. after all.

I sighed in defeat. A little longer. I would give myself just a bit, and then I’d be off to the one place I knew could give me what I needed. Though the name haunted me with visions of all the possible things that could go wrong.

**SABAODY ARCHIPELAGO**

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Clemens was named after a clementine for his color scheme.  
Simon was named after the pirate Simon Danziker. Idk I thought it fit.  
Marcy is a play on Mercy. I’m an overwatch nerd.  
Ranpa is written with the kanji (Orchid) & (hair)….I’m very creative huh?  
Birger was named after the norse word ‘keeper’…imma be honest it sounded like Burger so I went for it.  
Also I kinda screwed around naming mercury, since she cant give out her real name otherwise pirates be on her ass so sorry for the confusion.  
Fun fact #5, this was my FIFTH REWRITE FOR CHAPTER 2. Fuckin’ first had her on whitebeards ship then had her recaptured and sold again, and ALL THREE WERE 10k WORDS LONG T.T it hurt to delete the other 20k words man. Feels bad. This chapter may only be like 7k but it hurts my head to keep up with all my OC's so oof.  
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	3. How to Get a Veteran Pirate To Train You: For Dummies

So…uh…I may not have done enough research and forgotten that the dragon’s hoof brand was, in fact, a brand…as in it was supposed to be burned into her skin but for the sake of me not losing my mind I’m not gonna rewrite it AGAIN tyvm. Also, for the sake of my sanity, let’s pretend storage dials exist ok? It seems like something that should exist so therefore it exists. Kapiche?  
I respond to literally every comment in time, and have found some interesting comments that gave me ideas hehehe (beware, what you post may change the story ;p) …but it’s super flattering that yall like this fic that much! I know Mercury seems kind of…a little too emotionally stable for what she has been through? Blame it on OP world plot armor. So sorry about that…also I may move things along a bit faster and possibly re-write the end of the last chapter because I was desperate to keep that ball rolling before getting to this bit. POV is a mess I know, but I think I’m finally settling on 3rd person for the rest. I can’t keep flipping between perspectives like that.

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Simon was sprawled across the ship’s wide siderails, a neglected novel shielding his face from the midmorning sun as he napped amongst the sounds of the waves lapping at the waterline below. Light snores were muffled by the pages. A flash of green silently wove through the crates on deck, padding closer to the sleeping musician while a peach tail flicked lazily. She moved low, on all fours, into the open till she was barely a few meters away…

Steady…Her golden eyes dilated and her form stilled, tensing up to pounce…

“You try that and I’ll make sure you end up taking an early saltwater bath.” 

Mercury stumbled short halfway into her sneak-attack, faceplanting into the wood of the deck. Simon lifted the book off his face, smirking at his would-be-attacker’s guilty face. He shook his head in slight amusement, motioning for Mercury to join him on his perch. She complied and hopped up beside him, still rubbing her sore nose. They looked out into the sparkling blue expanse in a comfortable silence.

The two had gotten close over the time Mercury had been on board. Simon being one of the less-eccentric and energetic people on board, Mercury had clung to him like a lifeline to keep a semblance of sanity. She still had good relationships with the others, no doubt, but despite his distant nature, Simon had to admit a bit of a paternal attachment to her as well, though he would never admit it out loud. Heaven forbid Marcy or Clem found out; they would never let him live it down.

Maybe it was because of her feline likeness. He liked cats: quiet, self-sufficient, distant and the like. Less to annoy him with. Maybe it was the nights she would slip into his quarters and curl up in some obscure corner of his room, hiding red eyes and tear-tracks till he reluctantly allowed her to sleep with him after days of her nightmare or storm-induced insomnia. He knew she rarely did the same for the other members she was close to. Maybe it was the days they spent like this, napping together to avoid the incessant mother-hen behavior of Marcy. Either way, Simon had to admit that he rather enjoyed Mercury’s ghostlike presence. He had grown used to reading her behaviors without words. Her playful moods, her napping moods, her aversions and concerns, and despite her current playfulness, he could tell from her slight hesitation that she was feeling troubled.

Simon wasn’t going to push. If she wanted something, she would tell him. So they sat listening to the white noise of the crew, Mercury’s eyes closed as she tilted her head to smell the salty air, catching the comforting wooden musk from her companion. They stayed like that for a while before she finally turned her head to him, eyes shifting down to look at his book.

“I like it here…” Her broken whisper had him curious, but he remained quiet. “I don’t want to leave yet…” It was easy enough to read between the lines from there. Why else would she say that?

“You feel you have to…” Mercury nodded to his short assessment. She could see the unspoken ‘why’ in his eyes when she looked up to him. Steeling herself, she explained.

“Strength. I can’t get caught again.” Was her brief response, but it was enough. He understood that she wanted to get stronger under the radar so she could avoid capture if she needed to. She couldn’t train onboard lest she want to draw attention. It was already pretty well known throughout the fleet that they had taken in a kid and if the wrong person should overhear or oversee, they could run into some serious issues, especially since she had run from a celestial. He didn’t know the details, but he knew that she had a plan. The sooner she could enact it, the better. Didn’t mean he had to be happy about it though. Instead he opted for a sigh as he scratched his head in frustration.

“Damn…You better write. Marcy and Clem are going to be intolerable if you don’t.” His offhanded comment got a grin from Mercury, knowing that he would be missing her too but wouldn’t admit it. “Have you talked to either of them yet about it?” Mercury paled a bit and shook her head. He snickered, knowing she was dreading the mess that encounter was bound to be. He snickered and ruffled his hand through her hair. She pressed her head into his palm with a pleading glance.

“Hell no. You are on your own for that one.” She slumped. On another note, he knew she was planning something like this, so he slipped off the rail onto the deck with ease. “I’ve got something for you though before you leave, so don’t even think about running off without a goodbye. Birger should be done with dinner in a bit so you have some time to tell everyone. I’ll send them up before going to the mess hall.” He turned with a backhanded wave and headed off to the cabin doors. Content with the dread he instilled into his feline ward.

Resigned, Mercury stayed on the railing for a bit, letting the Seabreeze tickle her ears, pulling her well-worn coat a little tighter around her with a shiver while she awaited her inevitable demise at the hands of a particular enraged ship nurse.

Simon had already sent Marcy and Clem after Mercury, and was currently knocking on the door to Ranpa’s office. He didn’t bother waiting for the come-in signal before entering to the scene of the resident tailor’s focus on the fabric in front of him. Ranpa raised his head up with a dejected expression midway into Simon’s interruption of his work.

“Kit wants to…I take it you know already?” Simon lifted a brow.

“Hard not to, with how antsy she’s been lately. How are you taking it Mr. Macho?” Ranpa leaned his head on his hand after setting down his embroidery needle. The corner of his lips quirked up a bit seeing Simon’s face flush a little. With Simon’s face slightly scrunched up, Ranpa dropped the teasing and waved him around the desk piled with fabric. Checking to make sure the door was closed and locked, Simon nearly fell limp, burying his face into the effeminate man’s kimono. Ranpa sank down to the floor with his arms around his musician knowing that despite all Simon’s rational thinking, he was still coming to terms with the departure of his ward.

“It’s her best chance for survival, but I don’t want her to go.”

Ranpa could only agree with a nod, shedding secret tears of his own.

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“Missy, you are staying right in that spot until further notice do you understand me?” Marcy’s death-glare had Mercury scared ramrod-straight while she stalked her way out of the med-bay, pinching the bridge of her nose, marching past an unusually stoic Clemens who stood just outside the door, having gotten there as soon as the situation had been explained. He nodded to the room’s only occupant and stalked after Marcy, leaving Mercury alone in the sterile room. She knew they would eventually get over it but a part of her was worried that they would be too upset to want her back. She had her orders though, so she stayed rooted in the room and eventually opted to take a nap to avoid the anxiety and thinking herself into a frenzy.

It was dark when a stern but calmer Marcy gently shook her awake.

“Kit, Come on. It’s Dinnertime.” She helped haul the half-asleep Mercury up, leading her out and through the corridor. Despite Marcy no longer being in a frenzy, every step felt closer to doom. With a sigh, she leaned her weight into the heavy doors to the mess hall-

“SO LONG!!!” she promptly jumped back, landing on the floor when confetti poppers drowned her world in color, and the chorus of the crew nearly blew out her sensitive ears. Marcy helped her up off the ground with a sad smile, quickly covering it with her usual exuberant demeanor while she shooed Mercury into the room. Watery smiles lit up the room and everyone from the crew took turns passing Mercury around for hugs, each one chipping in with a ‘good luck’ or ‘you come visit us y’here?’

“Alright! Let’s enjoy the night and give our Kit a party she won’t ever forget!” Marcy called the room to attention, getting a cheer in response. There was no sign of Ranpa or Simon for the moment but Marcy knew they would be coming later. Neither of them would miss this for the world.

Birger had prepared a feast that filled the halls. The rest of the crew drank and sang as Mercury basked in the environment, fully intending to enjoy it while she could.

“Oi Kit!” Birger yelled over the clamor, drawing Mercury to the kitchen window. Her nose twitched with a familiar scent, making Birger chuckle. He fished out a small pack and handed it to her. “Ye can take this wit’ ya for special ‘cassions.” She unwrapped it a bit and grinned at the sight of the dried catnip Birger usually grew in secret just for her. It was a guilty pleasure of hers. However, she paused when she looked further and found a different spice. He winked. “Ye bet’er find some good use fer tha’. Ain’t easy ta come by all-blue ‘ngredients these days.” Mercury’s eyes widened and she giggled.

“Promise.” She beamed.

“Hey Birger, stop hogging the guest of honor, we have gifts too!” Clem cheered from the back of the room by Marcy.

The declaration had the crew scrambling to bestow their trinkets to their adopted mascot. Mercury could barely keep up. Clemens had jumped first to give her a storage dial, just enough space to store personal affects, along with the throwing knives he taught her to use. He expected something like this. Marcy had bestowed a small first aid kit and arm coverings to hide her scars in public, along with a mostly empty photo album containing a few pictures from the past two years in the front. Even the Cabin boy who’s hat Clemens had stolen for her that one time, Banda, she learned was his name, gave her that very same cap since she ended up using it pretty often when she went out. The rest pitched in with other useful gifts like a lighter, lockpicks, dice games, pen and paper, and even a bottle of sake (The kitchen helper: Teak had insisted it be her first real taste of alcohol) while others rounded up a nest egg of funds for her. She took it all with gratitude.

As things were winding down, Ranpa and Simon finally made their way in, carrying their own gifts out of sight. Ranpa revealed his to be an ornate kimono coat with barely visible detail work that blended into the overall pattern. Mercury tackled the man with a hug before getting pried off and storing it. Simon stepped forward holding a hand carved kalimba and a blank sketchbook for her travel log. Gingerly taking the gifts he offered, she buried herself in his over coat. Though he looked uncomfortable, he didn’t bother to move her and glared at Marcy and Clem’s shit eating grins.

Even if she spent the rest of the night clinging to him, nobody dared say anything.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

She sat in the rowboat slowly approaching the shore, small and unnoticed in order to avoid drawing attention. As far as anyone else knew, the whitebeard’s ship was doing another round by fishman island.

It had NOT been an easy argument.

When the crew found out exactly where she was going, she could have sworn she heard a few ‘snap’s’ of jaws dropping around the ship. They supported her, but it took forever to get them to agree to bring her to Sabaody. Why in the fresh hell would they bring her directly to the place that would shackle her as soon as she was seen for a slave auction? But she refused to explain exactly why she wanted Sabaody of all places. Nevertheless, they agreed on the condition that she carry a transponder snail if she ran into any trouble before they left. They would round the island for a bit on a hair-trigger to help her.

Simon had nearly set the ship on fire when he heard and demanded he be the one to row the ship to the island. It was a short half-mile ride. Too short. They said nothing to each other as they approached shore. On land, Simon crushed Mercury in the last hug he would get from her in a while. But she still had to close things out.

“I’ll be ok” She comforted her father-figure. “I’ll find him” He let go. 

“We will be back…two years to see your progress and check up on you. Be here. Promise?” His response was strained, but finite. She beamed at the opportunity he just gave her. She looked around for any spectators, and finding none leaned in to whisper.

“I, Mercury D. Ark, promise to meet you on this beach two years from now as healthy as you left me.”

The shock on his face when he registered her name was priceless, but a mad grin crossed his face and he nodded in response, stepping back to take the ship back to the crew. Mercury watched the boat become a dot in the distance before turning back in to the bubbly forest.

‘now…where the hell is grove 13?’

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‘Well….Shit……’ thought Mercury as she sat, back to a tree while she dipped in to her storage supplies for water. It had been a week since she landed, and she quite honestly had to admit it at this point.

Mercury was lost.

She probably should have asked for some kind of map or something but hey, hindsight is a bitch. Maybe they expected her to come back but she was determined to find her way herself its just that somehow, she always ended up by the shore one way or another. 

Closing the canteen, she picked herself up and readied herself for another day of confused hiking. She steeled herself and drew her knife as she trudged onward. There were only a few places she hadn’t checked yet, and she was guessing that grove 13 was somewhere in the middle of the island since she hadn’t found it near the shore at all. Honestly, she was about to start letting her nose guide her since obviously her sense of direction was shot…

Mercury facepalmed, realizing that that’s exactly what she should have been doing in the first place. She needed the practice anyway since she hadn’t worked on utilizing her enhanced senses in the past years. Without further ado, she closed her eyes and tilted her nose to the wind, trying to pick the smell of booze out from the cacophony of different scents. She nearly passed out trying it, but cause a glimpse, and started walking in that direction.

She kept her eyes closed, figuring it would be good awareness training anyway. Mercury made her way through the groves, careful to avoid people and the waters as the scent gradually got stronger, halting a few times when the wind changed direction and she lost the trail. Three days of stumbling, near drowning, and paranoia later, she tripped over another tree root and plopped down with a huff. She was still lost, but she was close, she could feel it. Or smell it. Actually, the scent was really strong right now…

“A bit rude to trip over someone and not apologize there, kid.”

Mercury jumped back, eyes shooting open as she brandished her knife toward the source of the noise. How had she missed his footsteps? As she looked around frantically, but couldn’t find anyone nearby. So who?

“Still waiting~”

Mercury whirled around to a towering form behind her, his form darkened by the backlighting of the sun. She paused as she registered the person in front of her. White cape. Glasses. Smug and Overwhelming presence….and apparently blond.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” He raised his eyebrow as Mercury gawked at the man in front of her. He honestly seemed a bit at a loss, since her reaction wasn’t at all what he was expecting.

“The Dark King.” His eyes sharply narrowed at her awed whisper.

“There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while…Now, you have exactly 10 seconds to explain what you want from me.” His voice pitched down, a dangerous look in his eyes only held back by intense curiosity. Silvers Rayleigh was even more intimidating than Mercury had ever remembered. She barely registered the countdown before scrambling to pull herself together and bowing.

“Silvers Rayleigh, my name is Mercury. Please consider teaching me!” Was Mercury’s desperate plea. Rayleigh paused his countdown, slightly awed at the display in front of him. He crossed his arms and sighed with a slight growl. She looked up, sensing his disapproval, and tried to explain. “Please, I need YOU to teach me.” She tried. “There’s a storm coming…I need to protect people. I have to be stronger to do that.” Rayleigh stared her down, not budging, considering. The standoff lasted a few minutes before he closed his eyes.

“Prove it.” Was his finite response, and was gone before she could blink. He didn’t even leave a scent trail, just up and vanished. A paper left where he was standing.

*Don’t trip this time.*

Mercury nearly collapsed in relief. Nine years she had endured to get to this point. She was honestly expecting Rayleigh to give her a hard refusal. She held no significance to him like Luffy, and had no clear reason to train her at all. Still, the week and a half of wandering in an unfamiliar place had taken its toll on Mercury. She wobbled to the vague figure of what she hoped was Shakky’s bar in the distance, barely able to keep herself awake as the paranoia induced adrenaline gave way to her sleep deprivation.

A bell chimed when she stumbled in, alerting the one woman tending the bar, wiping the counter of beer-stains from her last unruly occupants. She too, was rather surprised at the child’s appearance. She wasn’t one to question people’s situations on Sabaody of all places though. The less she knew, the less she had to say if the law came around. However… She squinted; eyes drawn to the paper Mercury held. Her eyes widened when they recognized the handwriting. Mercury plopped down at the bar rather unceremoniously, exhausted, and pulled out a few of her stashed beri to place on the bar.

“Supplies.” She requested, falling asleep almost immediately afterward. Shakky looked the kid over. Unruly hair, filthy ripped clothing and missing shoes kicked her maternal-instinct into gear a bit. Her gaze softened. She barely caught a glimpse of the rather curious ears atop her head as the hat she wore slipped off a bit. Shakky relented to her nature, and took the kid around back to the guest room, leaving a change of clothes nearby while she went to round up the supplies requested of her. Silently, she was rooting for her, after all, anyone who could catch her husband’s attention was sure to be interesting.

Shakky was really cool, Mercury decided. She already knew it, but experiencing it in person was even better. She had bothered to wash and fix Mercury’s outfit, and gave her a bit more food and water than the few beri she paid would have gotten her normally. Shakky even wished her luck on her way out, telling her she was welcome to return anytime. The sealed note she requested Mercury give to Rayleigh was a bit odd, but she agreed to deliver it anyway.

Time to find an eccentric old man, she guessed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

She forgot to ask for a map again. Mercury groaned, realizing her blunder too late when she was lost in the forest yet again. She lost count of how long it had been. Her tactic from before was no longer working; as soon as she identified the waft of bourbon she was looking for, it vanished. She would wander desperately, trying to avoid the odd pools, forest of roots, and wildlife. Mercury was almost certain her face had been turned black and blue from how many times she ran into the various elements. At least it hadn’t rained, though she knew that the climate on this island likely wouldn’t allow it anyway. 

When she wasn’t wandering around like a blind cat, she was training what she could. She expended her childlike energy climbing the trees, and doing basic strength and flexibility exercises. There wasn’t much else she could do on a ‘perfect island’ where there was little environmental danger so she had to be creative. She knew she wasn’t improving enough with just that little training. Luffy would have killed a tiger or two by now but she could barely manage a couple mile run. But, it’s all she could do at the moment aside from barely maintained meditation. Besides, trying to sleep among the branches of trees miles off the ground was enough of an exercise in patience itself.

She had to admit, despite the pain it was bringing her, the Sabaody forest really was a sight to behold. Mercury could spend hours marveling at the crystal blue waters, pale grass and rainbow sheen that everything seemed to have from the resin bubble’s light. She had saved a drawing and a pressed leaf in her sketchbook, rubbing the medallion on the front of the leather-bound tome in fond memory. Soon enough, she would have plenty of drawings in it. The thought excited her, but made her heart clench with nostalgia. Already she missed her first family.

On the other hand, Mercury was getting frustrated. Rayleigh’s scent still eluded her and she hadn’t caught wind of it in the past few days meaning it was likely he was no longer in the forest, which concerned her. She stayed as far away from civilization as possible, determined not to get caught again so soon, but realized that she may have to start working up the nerve if she ever wanted to gain on him. It would be telling him that I had a weakness to exploit, and ultimately make him refuse teaching her if she couldn’t get over it…so stealth training it was.

Which is how she found herself trembling outside grove 31’s village.

She was patient. She started wandering the streets at night, willing herself to be as quiet and unseen as possible. Mercury slowly transitioned to daytime ventures in the shadows. Some people spoke of an urchin in the alleys with unnerving eyes that glowed in the dark, but they were never able to pin her description. People slowly forgot about her, since the existence wasn’t causing harm and they didn’t want the marines raiding the place. They would remember a new face among the crowd, but a shadow was an easily forgotten memory. She was still uncomfortable with the mass of people, but could tolerate it despite wanting to claw her nose and ears off from the noise and mess of scents from the crowd on the streets.

She moved often now. Never too close to the naval bases on the island, but she had to try and catch Rayleigh again before he gave up on her. Mercury would continue her training off in the forest, making sure nobody was around to give her grief. She was determined not to give up but each day that went by drew her further into the mindset she had adamantly denied.

Where would an enthusiastic, crazy strong pirate veteran who had the balls to auction himself for money hide from a determined and annoying kid with an aversion to people? Mercury would have slapped herself with the realization, but was paralyzed by it.

‘Of-fucking-course. That’s exactly where he would be.’

Grove #1: Sabaody Auction house. The very name made her body flash hot, then cold in fear.

She realized that while she had gotten rid of the physical shackles, she still had a deep-seated fear of being sold back into that life, being forced to endure that kind of pain again, the physical reaction to that fear would give her away. She knew freedom, had it once more, and was determined to hang on to it with both hands or die trying. Anyone with an ounce of sense at the auction would look at her and immediately know she was an escaped slave…still…

The scent of bourbon was stronger and steadier than it ever had been before as she stood with the auction house a mere dot in the distance. She couldn’t get any closer. Yet, the familiar flavor practically danced on her tongue, daring her to _try it_. He was practically advertising his presence at this point and she knew this was her test.  
She did her best to ignore the other familiar scents as she forced herself to get closer, just inside the tree-line. The mix of scents that reminded her of that place. Blood wasn’t uncommon, but she could smell pain, filth, burned skin, the perfume of corrupt nobles, and…for the first time in years, she smelled fish. 

Her stomach clenched in a growl.

Mercury went whiter than a sheet and sprinted to expel her last meal behind a tree. All other trains of thought had crashed and burned.

Only gut-wrenching horror remained. She began hyperventilating. Even if it was only for a second, she had craved ‘fish’. She vomited again; her vision tunneled with stars along the edges. Not much left in her stomach.

The only prevalent information being her stomach _growled smelling fishman_. 

She could barely breathe, her body seizing with each heave until they ran dry. What else could she do? It had been _ingrained_ into her by those MONSTERS somehow. But she had complied, hadn’t she? Even her own body couldn’t deny it. Disgusting. Mortified. How was she any better?

Mercury didn’t notice the intruders in her area, too focused on trying to forget EVERYTHING to fix her broken state. Their malicious grins shaded by greedy intentions clear to anyone. 

“Hey little missy, you lost your way?” The yellow clad brute jeered, attempting to appeal to the wayward child.

The voice startled Mercury into fight mode. Identifying ‘rotten banana’ as the one who talked and ‘seaweed’ the other. She may have been in a frenzied, sobbing panic, but her glare took them aback. _FOUND. DANGER. FIGHT._ They were only deterred for a second before shaking their heads, beginning again.

“He-hey, we want to help! Did…you lose your parents?” The ‘seaweed’ goomba tried to recover, only succeeding in making Mercury bristle more. What was visible of her fur-like hair stood on end, eyes dilating even further as she searched for a way out. They were stronger than her, no doubt. She knew their kind and was aware enough of her own weakness and recovery to assess her odds. Actually, she stood down for a second wondering why they were so familiar. But if they were familiar, and dangerous… 

“Listen, we-”

An inhuman growl vibrated in her chest. Her instinct to ATTACK came back with vengeance and bloodlust where it was tinged with fear before. She REFUSED to succumb to this again. Bourbon turned sour. ‘Seaweed’ was frozen stiff, but ‘banana’ pressed on, stepping forward-

**“DO.NOT.MOVE”** he stopped wide eyed, foot still in mid-air.

Mercury’s command could barely be heard by the two, but it sent a paralyzing shudder down both the slaver’s spines. Neither could find the power to disobey in the face of that much fury. Mercury, on the other hand, was beginning to shut down. The reintroduction of her trauma was proving to be too much for her mind to handle at once. Her vision went black, and she swayed forward. Out cold.

She was swept up into old but strong arms, dwarfing her malnourished figure. Rayleigh’s eyes were shielded by the reflection of the sun on his glasses. His smile was as dark as his former title, but his back was turned to the two who dared try their antics on a child in his presence. They remained frozen as he assessed the situation calmly. Only a few seconds passed before he started walking Mercury in the direction of his wife’s bar without a word.

‘Curious,’ he thought. ‘Usually they would retaliate or run.’ Rayleigh looked down at the unconscious peach bundle he held. ‘You really are a special one, aren’t you?’

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Mercury woke back in Shakky’s back room she had stayed in so long ago with a pounding headache. She clenched her teeth, her head falling in her hands in an attempt to alleviate the pain of sitting up. A tray of minty tea had been left on the nightstand to her left. Shakky really was amazing, Mercury reaffirmed. Sipping the cup, she recalled the last events with a grimace and slight nausea, still nowhere near what she had experienced then. Fresh clothes had once again been laid out on the chair in the corner of the room. Mercury didn’t hesitate to make her way to the shower; it was a feat to get days’ worth of leaves and grime out of her hair. It made her feel bad for sullying the sheets. Mentally, she promised to make it up to Shakky before she left to find Ryleigh again…

But who had brought her back in the first place? 

The tea had done wonders for her headache, no doubt Shakky was used to dealing with hungover patrons. Now in fresh clothing, she went out to the bar area to ask about her savior-

“I’ve got to hand it to you kid, you have got balls to stay strong in that kind of situation.” Rayleigh grinned at Mercury from his place behind the bar; Shakky matching his expression leaned over the table. Mercury’s jaw dropped, but turned her head away as she blushed at the compliment. Shakky giggled at the girl’s demeanor.

“It’s been almost four months since you’ve been back. You could visit more often you know? My husband found you by the auction house and brought you back.” Shakky explained, recognizing the confused awe Mercury had written all over her face. Mercury’s eyes watered and just maybe, her slight hero-worship had increased exponentially for both of them. Rayleigh looked back at Mercury with curiosity.

“Mercury was it? You think you need training from me and are damn well determined to get it. What I need to ask you, is what could possess you to choose me?” Hope bloomed in Mercury’s chest. She probably should have considered her next words carefully, but her pride slipped through the cracks as she answered with absolute certainty.

“The next king of the pirates.”

Whatever Rayleigh or Shakky had been expecting her to say, it surely wasn’t that. Shakky’s eyes went wide and Rayleigh spit out the swig of beer he was about to take looking at her in incredulity. Realizing her rather blunt answer, she felt somewhat awkward in the frozen silence.

Until Rayleigh began bellowing laughter.

“HAHAHA! Ha-I’ll be damned! HAha- A true-hehe-true dreamer, aren’t you? You really think YOU can be the next king of the pirates?”

“No!” Mercury shook her head frantically, not at all offended it seemed. Her honesty threw them both for another loop. The couple looked at each other with a degree of surprise, amusement, and nearly crippling curiosity.

“You are one strange kid…you seem to know quite a bit about me, and your motivations are, well….” Rayleigh had a distant look for a second before shaking his head. “Point is, you’ve been through quite a bit judging by that situation back there and you are really willing to go through hell again for what? A hopeless goal?” Rayleigh appraised Mercury with a keen eye. She remained adamant and nodded once in response. He just had one more test.

The pulse of conqueror’s haki he sent out buckled her legs like they were no more than toothpicks. She fell to her knees, but no further.

“Are you absolutely SURE?”

Shaded eyes tilted up, glaring at him yet they held no heat. He cut off the pulse just before she passed out, releasing her to slump against the freshly swept floor.

“Tch…weird kid.” He scoffed under his breath.

“Not the weirdest you’ll meet.” Mercury smiled knowingly. A lightbulb seemed to go off behind his eyes and he raised a brow.

“Fine. Meet me at the docks of grove 27 tomorrow night. Don’t bring anything you’d miss.” Rayleigh stood. Mercury could only watch in ecstasy, having secured her goal at last. She stood suddenly, remembering that Shakky was the one responsible for her care in the past and bowed toward her.

“Thank you. For everything.” Shakky smiled, bending down to ruffle Mercury’s still-wet furry locks. Mercury halted a bit, realizing she didn’t have her hat, but relaxed into the affectionate touch involuntarily. Shakky chuckled.

“You can leave anything you don’t need here. I’ll expect you to visit sometime you know? Make sure he doesn’t maim you out there too bad.” Despite her earlier bravado, Mercury slumped at the reminder that she had just agreed to literal hell, proctored by the devil himself. She mentally told herself it would be worth it. Just one more thing.

“…can I have a map this time?” Her comment made Shakky full-on belly laugh. Mercury couldn’t help but smile at her accomplishment.

But now, Mercury struggled with the options before her. She knew it would be a bad idea to take any of her gifts from Simon, Marcy, Clemens or the rest of the crew, but she found it hard to part with some of them. With a sigh, she sealed everything except her canteen, knife, change of clothes, and sketchbook set back in the storage dial, bagging the rest in a knapsack. Shakky had hidden the dial under a floorboard in the room she stayed in, making sure that she would know where her stuff was if she came back and Shakky was out at the time.

Mercury met Rayleigh at the docks, his shit-eating grin easily wide enough to topple the…was that a canoe? Mercury decided not to question it further and chalked it up to One Piece world bullshit logic. Rayleigh wouldn’t kill her, but he would push her to her absolute limits. The prospect, while terrifying, was also invigorating. Soon enough, she found her grin just as wide as his while they ROCKETED through the water.

Still…she felt like she was forgetting something important…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It really was hell. Mercury was constantly running on adrenaline, not allowed even a moment’s rest lest she risk dying via 4 story monkey demon. They had gone to the very island Luffy himself would train on, Sabaody proving to be too stagnant. Still, she felt that she was improving dramatically in months compared to anything she tried herself before. Where she could barely run a mile before, she could run at least half a marathon now. Where she would move a log, she could now lift a boulder. Her senses were more controlled than ever, though she still tended to be overwhelmed by strong scents and sounds every now and then. The ‘weights’ Rayleigh fashioned for her probably skewed those results to the low end of what she could actually pull off. It was not enough, she knew, but at least she was improving. She didn’t expect to be a master yet, but her goals were set far higher than her current placement. It had been what, nearly 18 months? Since they started this brutal training. Today marked two whole years since…Simon…

“SHIT!” Rayleigh raised an eyebrow from the rock he was reading on at Mercury’s panicked exclamation. Mercury dropped the weights she had been lifting, running to Rayleigh with a fear he hadn’t seen in her eyes before. She paced, before looking at her mentor with pleading eyes.

“I need to go back. Today. Not for long, but I made a promise…” Rayleigh stayed in his spot for a few seconds, curious as to what could have freaked out his quiet little trainee so suddenly. Still, he complied with a suspicious amount of ease, and rolled his eyes before Mercury caught a glint of sadistic mischief in them.

“Sure, but you’re rowing this time.” Mercury’s eyes narrowed in a pained grimace, but she steeled herself and nodded with determination. It brought a new level of pain in her muscles that she didn’t know was possible yet, but she somehow pushed through a full day of rowing, allowing Rayleigh to pick up the slack on the last bit to get to shore just before sunset. She ran full-force toward the familiar and comforting scent of blueberries, citrus and sandalwood, arriving to the source as the sun touched the waterline in the horizon. ‘Funny, the island seems smaller somehow.’ She thought, but shook it away in favor of launching herself at the blue-coated figure waiting on the shore. While Marcy and Clemens scoffed in indignation over not being the first to be greeted, Ranpa hid his grin behind an elegantly printed fan as he watched Simon stutter and fall into the sand with the unexpected weight.

Soon enough, Mercury gave the rest of her whitebeard-family a crushing hug, knocking the wind out of each one in turn. They ended up laughing in the end, overjoyed to see their ward so content, though how she could be so happy on a literal slave-island eluded them. Marcy leaned forward to ruffle at Mercury’s hair, and scrunched her nose.

“Oh honey, not to be rude but you really need a shower. How about you come with us and wash up while we prep a reunion feast hm?” Mercury huffed, batting away Marcy’s hands from her head and looked off to the side.

“Yeah. Rowing all day would do that. Can…could I invite someone?” The adults braced with apprehension at the knowledge of their ward’s supposed newfound friend. The bushes nearby rustled and they surrounded Mercury in a defensive maneuver. 

“Ah, so this is where you ran off to. I see why you wanted to get back so quickly now I guess.” Rayleigh calmly pushed aside the foliage, coming in to full view and causing everyone to stare in awe. Mercury blushed, stepping through the blockade to side with her teacher and leading him forward.

“My invite…Meet my mentor: Silvers Rayleigh. He’s been teaching me. Sensei, meet Simon, Ranpa, Marcy and Clemens. They found me.” Rayleigh barely registered the wording, but stepped forward to introduce himself with a knowing smirk.

“Silvers Rayleigh. Nice to put faces to the names my student has said so much about.” Mercury looked between Her mentor and family, anxiously awaiting any interaction between the two. 

“…huh. You really did row ALL day didn’t you, kit?” Simon scratched his head, both in incredulity and awe at how much his kit had improved in the time she had spent here. Seems like she really did know what she was doing after all. 

“….I can’t feel my arms?” Mercury stated sheepishly. Simon smirked, the first to recover. 

“Well, you’re invited to our little reunion party, I guess. Make sure to tell every last embarrassing story you can of the brat while you are at it.” Simon locked eyes with Rayleigh in a communicative look before he pushed the boat that they came in back out to the water, tugging a still slack-jawed Clemens with him. Marcy snickered, but followed suit and Ranpa tailed the group, waving Mercury and Rayleigh on the boat for a tight fit. 

Mercury blushed redder than her hair, covering her face as Rayleigh joyously exploited the opportunity to tell of how she ran in to him at first, and started telling the story about the lettuce incident that Mercury would feel happier if it was just forgotten. (Hint: it was NOT lettuce and wasps were involved) She ran off to shower as soon as they got on deck, leaving Rayleigh to reconvene with the adults. Rayleigh snickered.

“Real spitfire, that one, once you get past the quietness that is.” Simon nodded fondly at Rayleigh’s description, ignoring the rest of the crew’s jaw-dropping awe as he walked by with the Dark King himself. “She is a curious one though. She says you found her?” Simon’s gaze turned dark and distant in response.

“She was just a kid, covered in scars and scared for her life after we cracked her out of that barrel.” Simon explained. His eyes hardening “Those dragon bastards…I don’t know the extent of everything they have did to kit, but if they ever try anything again…” His hands clenched. Rayleigh set a hand on his shoulder, but Simon could tell his word shad affected the veteran pirate just as much.

“Pretty soon, she’ll be able to give them a run for their money anyway. I never told you about how she convinced me to train her did I?” Simon perked up, turning his head to listen. “I told her to catch me and I’d consider it. The kid managed to paralyze two slavers in their tracks by the auction house trying to find me. I think she’s going to go farther than either of us could ever imaging.” A flash of anger went through Simon, furious at Rayleigh for allowing her to fall into the situation, but overcome by concealed pride at his kit’s strength. Simon nodded, but hesitated to voice his next question.

“What all do you know?” He asked quietly, assessing the guardian before him.

“Most of her fears. Storms, or Shackles. Mercury isn’t one to let them hold her back either way.” Simon started just a bit at Rayleigh’s response, but nodded. If she trusted him enough to give him her name, he would have to accept Rayleigh as a suitable guardian while she was away.

“I would have thought her name alone was what got you to train her in the first place.” Now it was Rayleigh’s turn to look puzzled.

“Why would that be?”

“Its not familiar to you? Has it been so long that you would forget him?” Rayleigh stared at Simon blankly, who sighed. “The name Ark D. Mercury rings no bells whatsoever?” Rayleigh froze. Simon barely caught the sadness in the smile.

“Should have known. Now that I think about it, She’s the spitting image of Maul isn’t she? Must have gotten with that Mink of his before meeting his maker.” Rayleigh shook his head. “Explains a lot actually. Never thought to ask, since slaves are usually orphans.” Simon agreed silently. They spent the better part of the evening trading happier stories, Simon sneaking the older pirate a photo of Mercury’s younger days. She had grown so much in just four years…

“OI GET YER OL’ GOSSIPIN ARSES DOUN TO THE MESS HALL WHY DON’CHA! Grub is ready ‘n we’re wait’n for ye two!” Birger bellowed impatiently, waving his ladle threateningly. The duo surrendered in favor of Birger’s mastery of cooking. Rayleigh had to admit, he did miss the atmosphere and having professional food.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Mercury hated goodbyes. Moreso second goodbyes. Her Whitebeard family couldn’t stay around for long without risking attention drawn to them, but another promised meeting gave her something to look forward to in another couple years to make sure they kept in contact.

It was still hard to let them go when she knew just how much she was going to miss them.

Rayleigh still had her row all the way back to Rusukaina when they left, stopping by Shakky’s for a quick visit and to gather some not-forest-shredded clothes for Mercury. Somehow, the trip seemed to hurt worse than the time before and Rayleigh was absolutely no help, guffawing at Mercury’s pitiable state as she crawled on land only to begin running away from her old friend 10 story baboon.

She should not have called him baboon…mistakes were made.

With just as much determination as before, she threw herself right back into her training. She would be strong enough to stand alongside the straw hats, pain in her limbs be damned.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
I did exactly ZERO editing on this and did this whole chapter in a day after posting one like a week ago. You’re welcome. I’m doing this instead of finals lol. Explained a bit of why Mercury wanted to go THIS route rather than say, revolutionary or whitebeard, or straight to east blue or something idk. She was going to fisher-tiger at some point before I decided HELL NO. I like my dad-vibes and yeah, Simon and Ranpa are a thing, broke Mercury’s psyche a bit with some obligatory author sadism, snuck in a lil sneaky-sneaky plot point if you can catch it. Yall interested in Maul yet? Hehe…


	4. Guess who is rewriting this for the 5th time!? hopefully yall stick with me.

Long story short: me took break. future me read past me's work. future me decided past me's work was garbage. future me is reworking it so that there is an actual story and issues etc. and less verbal vomit. good day and rework coming in the future.

EDIT: My rework is up, CH1. Made it seperate from this work entirely and altered some things so if you still want to follow it here ya go:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393940/chapters/66950605

I have 5 chapters drafted like 8-15 pages per chapter and i havent even gotten halfway through chapter 2 of my original post yet XD have fun yall.

I'll probably delete this work once I catch up on my other work just so you know.


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